Murderous Intent
by Cats070911
Summary: DI Lynley is depressed and has discovered a dark side to his soul that he is worried he cannot control just at a time when Sgt Havers will need him most. I have been asked to change the rating due to the level of violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** Tommy and Barbara belong to Elizabeth George and the BBC. Lady Macbeth and other characters belong of course to William Shakespeare.

* * *

Wars, famines, climate change, student protests about the rising costs of living and the imposition of new taxes were far too depressing to listen to so Detective Inspector Lynley flicked off his television and sat in the dark slowly sipping his whiskey. It was nine months since Helen had died and although he was now back at work nothing was the same. He did the same things, with the same people, time after time. Everything was routine and unsatisfying. Even the one relationship that had always kept him going had faded into ordinariness. Perhaps if he had treated Barbara better in those first few months things might be different but he had pushed her away then and he knew he was still pushing her away. He just wished he knew why. She had been persistently and annoying loyal and had tried hard to keep him balanced and focussed but he just did not have it in him anymore. He had no idea what he wanted from life but this was not it. He drained his drink and went to bed, angry and frustrated but determined.

Tommy was still angry as he walked into the office. Today he needed to have a hard conversation and it was not going to be pleasant for Barbara or for him but it had to be done. He needed to tell her he was moving on.

"Good morning Havers," he said as he passed Barbara's desk.

"Morning Sir," she said cheerily, glad to see him, "Lady Macbeth is dead!"

"The Queen, my Lord, is dead!"*

"Sorry Sir?"

"Yes I know she is dead Havers, suicide, quite fitting really."

"No Sir, definitely murder, an axe to the head."

"Do you take me for a fool Havers?" he snapped.

"Sir?"

"She should have died hereafter;  
There would have been a time for such a word.  
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,  
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day  
To the last syllable of recorded time,  
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools  
The way to dusty death.  
Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player  
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage  
And then is heard no more: it is a tale  
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,  
Signifying nothing."*

As he continued to walk into his office Tommy thought how apt the quote was; it summed up his thoughts from last night. Life, at least in its current form, was meaningless.

Barbara was left standing dumfounded. He had been acting very strangely recently, more so than when he had first come back to work and she was worried about him. Try as she might she could not reach him in the way she had once been able to do and their friendship and bond built up over a decade was slipping away leaving her alone and bereft. But regardless of his eccentric behaviour they had a case to solve so she took a deep breath to gird herself and entered the lion's den.

"Sir, we need to discuss what we do about Lady Macbeth."

"Havers, what are you on about this time? You are raving like an idiot."

"I think Sir it was you that started raving on about the meaning of life. Anyway it seems you know Macbeth so we have to go."

"Of course I know Macbeth! Half of England studied it for their A levels."

"Yeah, well this half of England didn't," she snapped back, "but that does not change the fact that we need to get going."

"Havers, the English language has over one million words, all with precise meanings. Many, I grant, are synonyms but the beauty of the language is that we can find the specific word we need to express exactly our meaning and intent. I suggest you review your use of the language from our earlier conversation and re-phrase it so that I have at least some inkling of what the hell you are trying to tell me!"

Lynley's anger had spilled over into his speech. He could see from the look on her face he had hurt her but he did not care. If anything he wanted to punish her, make her feel the pain he felt. Now might be the time to tell her he was leaving. "And do it quickly because in five minutes I am going into Hillier's office to resign!" There it was said, and he could avoid any clumsy attempts to tell her gently. He was being an utter bastard and he knew it. She did not deserve to be treated like this but he was unable to stop himself. Of all the people in the world he wanted to destroy she was on the top of his list.

Detective Sergeant Havers' face closed down almost immediately and she stood staring at him almost expressionless. He could not understand why he needed to be so cruel. He did not hate Barbara, quite the opposite, and yet he had a burning need to make her suffer. He could apologise at this point and fix it but it was as if a hand was physically holding him back. He wanted to torture her, to tie her up in a dungeon and burn holes into her flesh with hot irons and watch her face contort as she screamed for relief. He wanted to drive a knife into her heart and twist it and then slash her body until she was unrecognisable. As he watched her now he could imagine physically doing it to her and part of him relished it while another part was horrified. He had never until this moment understood why people could murder other people for pleasure but the discovery frightened him to his core. He could feel the blood drain from his face.

"Sorry Sir, you are correct. I was unclear," she said very formally, "The actress playing Lady Macbeth in the production currently being staged in Stratford-upon-Avon has been found dead with a large axe embedded in her skull. It seems Sir that you went to school with the lead actor Paul MacQuarie. Assistant Commissioner Hillier has asked for you to lead the case. I had assumed I would be working with you and told them we would be up there by ten o'clock."

Tommy tried to maintain his composure. He had to stay away from Barbara; he could not risk that he might snap and act on the thoughts that he had never dreamt existed. "Thank you Havers. Now wasn't that simple. I understand everything I need to know. Tell Nkata to pack a bag and I'll pick him up in forty minutes. I need to see Hillier then go home and pack. I suspect we will be up there for a few days. You can stay here and look after the London end."

Barbara's neutral expression dissolved into disappointment but she tried hard to mask it. "Right Sir, I'll tell him." She turned and left his office trying hard to blink away the forming tears.

Hillier was not happy and told Lynley his decision was hasty. He agreed however to give him six months leave starting at the end of the Macbeth case and if Lynley still felt the same at the end of that he would process his resignation. "Thank you Sir."

"What about Sergeant Havers?"

"What about her Sir?"

"What do you want me to do with her?"

"Whatever you need to do Sir," Lynley replied evenly.

"What's going on Lynley? Normally the first thing you would do is try to protect her and make sure she is treated well. Now you're going and don't seem to care. Have you two had some sort of fight? Is that why you are leaving?"

_If you only knew Sir, you could never say I want to treat her well._ "You make us sound like petulant children Sir." His statement made Hillier raise his eyebrows as if to question why that statement was not valid. "No, we have not had a fight. It is simply time for me to move on. She is a good detective and I hope she does well but it's up to Barbara to shape her career."

"Very well. Send her in please. She can have your job. I'll make her Acting DI until you decide what you're doing."

"Sir?"

"She passed her exams a long time ago. She has only stayed on as a Sergeant because she won't budge from being your partner, although heaven knows why! Probably the same reason you stayed where you were for so long. Anyway she can take the lead on this one and you can help her get up to speed before you go."

"Sir, I really don't think that is a good idea. She might be better under the guidance of another DI. " Lynley was horrified. He should confess now that he was psychologically deranged and a threat to Barbara but he doubted anyone would actually believe him.

"The only one she will listen to is you, and you know it. She is good Lynley but you need to just finish polishing her off in the next few days."

_Polishing her off! If only you knew. Would you prefer the hot irons, the knife or perhaps I could strangle her?_ The image of him with his hands around her neck and her astonished eyes bulging as he tightened his grip flashed through his mind and he tried to erase it before it took hold.

"Oh, and Lynley."

"Yes Sir?"

"Good luck. You might not believe it but I am sad to see you go. I hope you come back to us but if you don't then I hope you find some peace."

Tommy nodded in acknowledgement and closed his lips together in an attempted smile. Peace was the last thing he expected to find.

Barbara had not taken the events of this morning as stoically as she pretended. Winston Nkata had been horrified to learn he was to help the DI on this case and equally worried about Barbara. He had heard the shouting coming from Lynley's office earlier. It was not like their usual rows; this sounded bitter and one-sided.

"Are you okay Barbara? The DI seems to have a real problem today."

"He's resigning Winston so life here is going to change."

Winston came around the desk and rubbed her upper arm in a gesture of care. She smiled at him trying hard not to let on that in the space of one morning her entire life had crashed down around her. She looked up to see Lynley storming down the hall towards them.

"Change of plans. Nkata you stay here. Acting DI Havers and I are off to Stratford."

Barbara and Winston stared at him mouths agape.

* * *

**Author's note:** *William Shakespeare Macbeth Act 5 Scene 5


	2. Chapter 2

The M40 seemed to stretch into infinity as they travelled to Stratford. The trip would be just under two hours but it could not go soon enough for either of them. Lynley drove as he always did but stared directly in front not daring to look at Barbara. She was pretending to read the case notes that she had already read twice. There was none of their usual banter and they were not bouncing ideas and theories off each other or asking probing questions. The atmosphere was icily tense and both could sense that one misspoken word would lead to disaster, so they just sat locked in their own worlds; both in pain and neither knowing how to resolve it.

Barbara pulled her phone from her coat pocket and called Winston. "Hiya. Any word from the Birmingham boys on the forensics yet?...okay thanks, well let me know if you hear anything."

"No word from Birmingham yet Sir. They should have something by the time we get there."

Tommy did not reply and did not divert his gaze from the road so she tried again to engage him in conversation. "I wonder why they want us there and did not use the Birmingham teams?"

"No idea."

"It seems to have something to do with you knowing the main lead. You apparently went to school with MacQuarie, what was he like?"

"I don't remember him."

He was clearly disinterested which infuriated Barbara. "Look Sir, I don't know what is going on in your head at the moment. I don't know why you are leaving. I don't know why you couldn't tell me before and I don't know why you are being so callous now. Is it something I've done? Or not done?"

"No." His voice was tight.

"Well we need to solve this case and not talking to each other seems pointless. I've never been case lead before and I'd much prefer it was like yesterday where you were my DI and you were always going to be here but seeing that has changed and I've been thrown in the deep end because of it, I'd like your help. Having to pussyfoot around you is not going to work. Help me out here Sir."

"You are a good detective, you'll work it out." His voice was flat and his tone was bitter.

"What the hell is the matter with you and why can't you talk to me about it?" She was angry now and doubted anything she said would make it worse between them. She needed to know what was wrong.

Tommy wrenched on the wheel and cut across the outside lane of traffic and stopped the car with a screech at the side of the road. A few drivers blasted their horns at the manoeuvre and Barbara sat up in her seat shocked. "What the…?"

"Look Sergeant Havers, oh no sorry I forgot, Acting Detective Inspector Havers, I DO NOT want to be on this case. I DO NOT want to be your babysitter; I do not want to be in the same car as you. I don't even want to be in the same country as you! But I have to be so just shut the hell up and let me drive!" His face was red and his usually soft smouldering eyes were burning with a rage she had never seen before, even on his darkest days.

Barbara looked at him defiantly. "Fine. I think we know where we stand DI Lynley. I suggest then that you start driving so that we can both be released from this prison of a car as soon as possible."

Lynley swung the car back out on the highway and pushed the accelerator to the floor. When he had pulled over he had wanted to kill her. He had actually intended to kill her. It had flashed through his mind so fast. He would drag her out of the car and into the trees and bludgeon her to death with his fists. He could almost feel his knuckles sinking into her flesh and hear the bones snap. He could smell her fear and taste the blood that would splatter from the wounds across his face and best of all he would watch the terror in her eyes when she realised he was not going to stop. He would wipe the insolence off her face once and for all.

He did not know what stopped him but as he drove now he was relieved that something had. He chanced a glance across at her and saw her brooding as she looked out the window and he hated himself. She was the most trusting and steadfast friend he had ever had and he loved her in a way that defied definition and yet he was fantasising about violently murdering her. He would drive her to Stratford and then leave before he completely lost his mind. In the last few months he had often wondered what it would be like to go insane but he had somehow believed that it would be a release from reality and not this maelstrom of violence and fear. He wanted to scream and rage so he gripped the wheel tighter and started to count.

Barbara watched his reflection in the side window and at that moment she was the closest she had ever come to hating him. He had been her life; her reason for existing for so long that for it to end like this was unbearable. She could understand if he needed to leave the force, leave her, leave London, even leave the country but he could have taken her heart with him and left her with her memories; he did not have to reach in and wrench it out of her chest leaving her with nothing. He had looked at her with pure hatred but it was far worse not knowing why. What could possibly have changed overnight to make him like this?

In Stratford they went straight to the theatre. It was nearly eleven o'clock but the whole town seemed to be hovering on the banks of the river waiting for action. Barbara felt as if she was in the middle of a mad Shakespearean tragedy where she was the hapless character who had no idea what was happening around them. Or maybe it was a comedy.

The director of the play ushered them inside and was ranting about the notorious bad luck that befell productions of the 'play that cannot be named'. Now he too would be infamous and he was revelling in actress's body was still in her dressing room rigid with rigor mortis but strangely devoid of blood despite her head being nearly cleaved in two. By best estimates she had been dead over twelve hours. The axe was a large one that looked like a prop from the fight scenes and added an extra grotesqueness to the crime. The performance last night was a dusk one and had finished by nine. That narrowed the time and opportunity.

"The room was locked from the inside ma'am," said the local sergeant and it took Barbara a while to realize he was addressing her. Ma'am was not something she was comfortable with being called. Perhaps if she kept the rank she would revert to the old school and have them call her Gov. "There is no other entry or exit that we can see so it is a complete puzzle."

"Classic locked room scenario DI Havers," Lynley said. Since he had been on scene he had been much more like his usual self. Barbara found it pitiful that it took murder to bring out his humanity.

"Except DI Lynley that in those cases the murder is committed outside the room and the victim locks themselves in either unaware they are fatally wounded or because they are. Here it is unlikely she would have been able to lock the door with a battle axe through her head."

"I totally agree DI Havers."

The constable watched them as if he were watching a match at Wimbledon. Back and forth they asked questions and made comments but always addressing each other by their rank and name. It was not just unnerving it was downright odd. They obviously hated working together and yet it seemed effortless to them.

Barbara sent the constable to set up interview rooms. She would start with the crew and then the cast. She turned to Lynley and hissed, "we sound stupid calling each other by our rank."

"Try calling me Tommy, that's my name."

"I can't do that."

"You stopped calling me Sir easily enough."

"Because the way you were behaving I stopped respecting you!"

Despite his inner rage Tommy was devastated by her comment. Part of him wanted to beat some respect into her but mostly he was sad that he had fallen so far in her eyes. He did not want their friendship to end like this; he did not want her to hate him but he was powerless to stop it. "Let's just keep to surnames Havers, that is not too unusual." He went to prepare for the interviews.

They interrogated the crew and minor players together to save time but interviewed the main cast individually. It was after seven when they finished and without lunch both of them were starving. They checked in to their digs, a small private hotel with rooms over four levels. They were on the top floor and were to share a bathroom. The rooms were small but functional. Barbara was disturbed to find a large picture of a woman dressed in a gossamer gown hanging above her bed. As they walked to the pub she asked Lynley, "do you have a Shakespearean character over your bed Sir?"

"Yes, Hamlet. What happened to Lynley?"

"Habit, I'm still not happy with you."

"And you?"

"The inscription says Ophelia."

"That's ironic."

"Why?"

"She was Hamlet's innocent girlfriend. She is torn between loyalty to him and her family and eventually goes insane and kills herself."

"Yeah, so what's the irony?"

"He abused and mistreated her and yet she still loved him with all her heart."

They both looked at each other but neither spoke or smiled. They walked silently to the pub. They ate quickly and conversation was limited to discussing suspects and the mystery of the locked room. There was no familiarity in their behaviour and Barbara thought they could easily be strangers meeting for the first time. She was confused but as the night wore on she became increasingly despondent. She was not prone to tearful outbursts often but tonight she wanted to get back to the room and pour her feelings into her pillow. She had at least a gallon of tears to shed. The handsome face that she had loved so much was still there but it was just a living shell; she had lost her beautiful soulmate and she needed to mourn.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Thanks for your feedback. Most of you seem to be disturbed but intrigued by this story which is the effect I was aiming to achieve. This chapter has one or two elements that might be particularly distressing. Trust me though there is a reason and I really want you to stick with it and continue to the next chapters.

* * *

Tommy could not sleep and was sitting rocking slowly back and forth on the bed with his knees drawn up to his face and his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He was sweating profusely and the drops ran down his neck and saturated his collar. He had not undressed from the day. It was too much effort and he needed all his energy to try to stop Hamlet staring down at him, mocking him. Hamlet and the room wanted him dead and the walls flexed with each of his breaths as they moved inexorably closer to the bed. They were determined to press in until they suffocated him.

Tommy could bear no more and shouted his own words back at Hamlet,

"O that this too solid flesh would melt  
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew!  
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd  
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God!  
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable  
Seem to me all the uses of this world!"*

He beat his fists repeatedly against his skull trying to exorcise the demon that had taken hold of him. If Hamlet wanted him dead then let him kill him, nothing could be worse than this madness that had descended on him. He stood and wrenched the picture from the wall and flung it across the room to clatter against the timber dresser. Hamlet grinned back at him unbeaten.

He wanted to cry out for Barbara. He wanted her to hold him and just be there for him as she had done so many, many times before. She could find a way to take away the anguish he was sure but he could not risk it. He feared what he might do. The sight of her provoked a bloodlust that he could not comprehend or prevent. Whatever sanity remained he had to use to protect her from the malevolence that was commandeering his soul.

In the other room Barbara had not slept. She had expected to cry herself to sleep but no tears had come. She was beyond grief; she had no emotions left, just a vast emptiness. She had assumed Tommy was always going to be there with her, her one link to humanity. Now she was alone in a hostile world that she neither liked nor understood. Through him she had seen a better future, a connection to the beauty and wonder of life but at this moment all she could see was the despair and futility of her existence. Her one true friend had committed the ultimate betrayal; he had sucked away her reason to live.

She tossed and turned on the bed unable to find a position that did not cause some part of her to ache. A glance at her phone told her it was nearly two o'clock. It was hopeless trying to sleep so she rose and went to the bathroom they shared to wash her face. His toiletries were stacked neatly on the shelf and she smiled at the way he had carefully folded his towel over the rack. Hers by contrast hung at odd angles and her toiletries spilled over the top of her old battered bag. With his behaviour today he was leaving her so little of himself to treasure that her pain welled up again. This time tears did flow and she buried her face in his towel, desperate to seek some solace.

In the hallway as she returned to her room she could hear him; the doleful cries of a man in distress. Whatever was happening to him she realised it was not something he had chosen and if she had ever known him at all she knew he would not have wanted it to destroy both of them. She stood outside his room her hand on his doorknob uncertain whether to go to him or not. Two days ago she would not have hesitated but he had made it clear he did not want her in his life so she turned and went back to her room. She pulled to pillow over her head to block out his screams, each one of them ripping another piece from her heart.

Ten minutes was all she could bear. Barbara had no idea what she was going to do but he needed someone. His door was not locked and she pushed it open to find him pressed into the corner his eyes fixed on Hamlet lying askew on the floor. His clothes were soaked and perspiration was running down his face pooling on his chest where he had ripped open his shirt. He was breathing heavily but it was uneven and raspy. He did not seem to notice her presence even when she crouched down beside him.

"Sir…Sir, it's me Barbara. You were screaming," she said softly as she touched his arm. His gaze did not shift but he stopped yelling. He looked at her without recognition then hung his head and began to whimper.

"Have you been taking drugs Sir?" Tommy did not respond. Barbara had seen a lot of addicts on the streets withdrawing and began to wonder if this was the cause of his behaviour. He had become increasingly introverted over the last few weeks and now with his resignation and violent outbursts it seemed to fit. Except that he hated drugs. He had seen what heroin had done to Peter and she could not imagine any circumstance in which he would even think about it. Even after Helen died he had only drowned in whiskey and not sought any other escape from his debilitating misery. Even so she grabbed his arms and checked but there were no tell-tale track marks or bruises.

"I'm going to call an ambulance Sir; I'll get help for you." She went to stand but he seized her arm with a force that was painful.

"No! Don't."

"Sir, you're not well you need help." She was begging him. He was ill, so terribly, terribly ill.

His grip tightened and he hissed menacingly, "Don't make me kill you Havers."

She shook her arm free and stood. "It wouldn't matter if you did!" At that moment she did not care if she lived or died. Whatever was happening he had won and she had no energy to fight him. Her only weapon had been to love him but that was clearly not enough for him.

The attack was sudden and ferocious. He leapt up and locked his hands around her throat as he pushed her onto the bed. She felt his whole bodyweight crash down on her and his knee dug sharply into her hip. He was looking straight in her eyes as he strangled her. They were hard and sadistic but behind that she could see just a trace of the Tommy she loved. She could feel her limbs flailing under him, fighting for a hold on his arms to drag them away. He was unmovable and the room began to fade at the edges as her vision centred on his face. She had imagined she would have died horribly one day but had thought it would be in the line of duty not at the hands of the one man she had trusted with her life. His face was twisted with rage and the veins in his temples bulged and pounded. _It's funny what you notice when you are dying._ His red face was fading slowly from view and the pain was stopping. She began to float and no longer fought to breathe. She could hear her brother calling to her and she wanted to go to him. First she had to farewell Tommy. _I forgive you Tommy. Find peace. I love you._

He felt her go limp as she closed her eyes and his rage fell away to be instantly replaced by self-loathing. Her face was peaceful and more beautiful than he had ever noticed. It was incomprehensible that until this very second he had not known that he was in love with her. Now it was too late. His wail filled the room with sorrow and he was numb to the tears that streaked down his face. His fate was sealed. He could not live with himself or what he had done to Barbara.

"I love you so much Barbara," he told her lovingly, "I can't believe I've done this to you. I am so sorry." He looked to the heavens. "Please forgive me!" He leant down and gently kissed her lips wishing that he had done this before when she could have known and responded.

A fiery pain ripped through his scalp as his head was lifted from hers. He cried out in pain and then fell sideways beside her as the full force of her fist crashed into his teeth. Barbara sat up wheezing and gasping for air. Her throat and neck were sore and as she slowly rotated her head she could not feel any other damage but she knew tomorrow she would have the imprints of his fingers etched on her skin.

Barbara eyed him warily as her breathing became more regular. His eyes were those of a frightened boy lost somewhere in the forest. Despite what he had done she did not hate him or even fear him. She had heard his words as she had wafted out of unconsciousness and they filled her with hope. Whatever had hold of him she was sure they could manage it together if he would let her help him.

Tommy lay stunned not knowing if it was real or another of his visions. He was so grateful that she was alive. He curled up into a ball and started to weep, deep racking sobs that resonated in her chest. She pulled him up and held him trying to soothe his pain. His held his arms tight to chest and allowed Barbara to envelop him in her embrace. She rocked him gently as she would a child and they stayed like that until he could cry no more.

He pulled his arms free and wrapped them around Barbara and held on so tight she had trouble breathing. "I am so sorry. I am so sorry…" he said over and over.

"It will be okay Sir, I forgive you," she kept reassuring him.

They clung together until dawn started to break and throw shadows across the room.

* * *

**Author's note:** William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 1, Sc 2.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **I was surprised and a bit disappointed by the lack of feedback to Chapter 3. I had hoped to evoke some response, even if it was that you did not like it.

* * *

The dawn's yellow light crept up the wall, slowly illuminating the imperfections of the room and its occupants. The disarray of the bedding and furniture could be fixed within minutes but as she released herself from Tommy's arms Barbara wondered if they could ever recover from the events of the night. Her neck was sensitive and the bruises had purpled. She could buy a scarf to cover them but they would be there long after the colour faded.

Barbara tidied the room in silence, hanging Hamlet back on the hook above the bed and straightening the chair and dresser. She knew he needed her to be true to her word and forgive him and she could do that. She bore him no ill will but she had also seen the reality of wives struggling with abusive husbands. Next time he might not stop when she passed out. Could she live with the fear that one day he might lose control and kill her? They were not married of course but they spent hours alone together each day. He could easily pull over on the side of a deserted road or lose control one night when they were working late going over case notes. Looking at him every day and wondering if he might snap was not a life she wanted. She had promised to help him but she had no idea where to turn, she had no understanding of what had caused it and no clues how to fix it. She had made him a promise she did not know if she could keep.

Tommy was holding his head unsure if he could control his demons. He felt no rage as he watched the waving circles and diamonds of light on the wall reflected through the lace curtains that swirled in the breeze seeping through the old dormer windows. His remorse was almost a physical presence in the room watching her every move. The purple welts on her neck made him wince with shame. His face was sore from her punch so he could not even imagine how she must feel. He sat staring, not understanding how he could have hurt her. Her bearing and behaviour told him that she had lost her faith in him. He felt hollow and forsaken. Last night in the dark the world had been compressed into one act of hatred and another of love. He had hoped love would prevail but in the light the world was so much larger and the issues so much broader. There was no honour in anything he did but for her sake he would leave. That would make sure he never hurt her again, at least physically.

"You can't run from yourself Sir."

Tommy looked at her bewildered. She had been watching him and had read his thoughts. "How did you know that's what I was thinking?"

"It's what I'd want to do if it were reversed. I'd want to run, to protect you and to protect myself. Is that why you resigned?" She was watching him carefully to gauge his reaction. She needed to be sure she did not upset him and unleash his dark side. The sorrow of no longer feeling safe with the man she had trusted most was intolerable but she needed to find courage and strength to support him. She could not let one day undo a decade of friendship and trust.

"No, it wasn't but I wouldn't run. I was thinking of finishing everything, making sure. I can't live with what I did to you Barbara." There was a long pause before he continued. "I've had enough, everything is pressing down on me and I can't cope. That's why I wanted to resign. I thought if I got away it might help…somehow."

Barbara could see from the sadness in his eyes he was genuine and did not doubt he would kill himself. In a way it was a rational argument. She would feel safe and he would be released from his torment but there was no way she could give up on him so easily. If she let that happen she would have let him down and she would bear that guilt for the rest of her life. There had to be another answer and the only way she knew to solve an issue was to ask questions until you worked out what was happening. "You can't hide from what's in your own head though can you? That goes with you but I'm damned if I am going to let you kill yourself to escape this; there has to be an answer Tommy! When did you start wanting to kill me?"

The sound of his name was bittersweet. "I never _wanted_ to kill you Barbara! I just get this rage that builds up. It starts slowly and then just grows and each time it gets worse. It's like I've got two people in my head, me and some vile creature I don't recognise. For a while I was winning but last night…last night he won." Tommy hung his head. He could not bear to look at her.

"When did it start?"

"What? The rage?"

'Yeah, if that's what you want to call it."

"A few days ago, before that I was just depressed." 'Just depressed', he had made it sound trivial but he had been living a nightmare where nothing in the world meant anything and he was being absorbed by blackness.

"Did you think of seeing someone? A doctor maybe?"

"I've been seeing a psychiatrist for months. I started not long after I went back to work. He's helped me work through a lot of the guilt I had after that night with Julia and the way I treated you."

Barbara noted with interest he had not mentioned help getting over Helen's death. "Has anything changed in the last month or so?"

"I don't think so," he said slowly as if trying to recall events, "Why?"

"Because you have become more and more remote and I don't know…sadder."

"That's an irony. I should be happier; it was about a month ago he prescribed anti-depressants. I was supposed to feel normal by now but if anything I feel worse."

"Anti-depressants?" Barbara sounded dismayed.

"Yes, you'll find about fifteen percent of Britain are on them Barbara. There's no shame in it!" He was starting to get mildly angry and it frightened him.

"No, no I'm not suggesting there is Sir, but I'm wondering if there is a link. The timing seems to exact to be a coincidence."

"They make you happier Barbara, not the reverse." Tommy dismissed her idea and wondered why she had reverted to Sir, he preferred Tommy.

"Hmm, have you spoken to your doctor about these rages?"

"No, I tried yesterday but I was going to ring him today."

"First thing eh?" she said as she stroked his arm, "we have to get ready now so you take first shower."

Barbara hustled him into the bathroom and hovered close outside listening to ensure he did not do anything rash. She was waiting there when the hotel manager stormed up and informed her that they were no longer welcome and would need to leave. There had been complaints about the noise and Barbara had no way to hide her bruises. The manager looked at her with pure disgust, "we don't want your type of people in this establishment!"

It had taken all her strength to resist shouting back at the supercilious woman. She was angry that the woman did not understand that Tommy was not like that, he was just ill. Years ago she would have given her a generous piece of her mind but now she looked at the woman with pity. There were so many things in the world that are hard to understand and to make judgements without even trying disgusted her.

She retrieved her mobile from her room and rang Stuart Lafferty. She hated lying to him but she had little choice. She tried to sound upbeat and cheery. "Morning Stuart…I was wondering if you could tell me a bit about anti-depressants…side effects that type of stuff. Anything that would make a person murder someone?"

She listened with interest. "Thanks Stuart, thanks a lot." She rang off and stared at the bathroom door. For the first time since last night she felt hopeful.

When Tommy emerged she told him she had decided they needed to move hotels explaining that she did not want to spend another night here. He seemed relieved and packed while she showered. The bruises were one thing but as she looked in the mirror she could see dark patches under her eyes and red lines near her ears and mouth. It would not take years of police work for people to work out what had happened. She put on a high necked shirt but when it did not cover the marks she had tied a jumper around her neck and allowed the sleeves to hang in front of her which only seemed to draw attention to the yellow and plum thumbprints. Barbara settled their accounts while he fetched the car and avoided the stares of the receptionist.

As she stepped into the car she ordered, "find a supermarket before we start."

Much to his chagrin Barbara made Tommy come with her as she purchased some make-up and a colourful scarf. "You are not leaving my sight Sir, not until I am sure you will be okay."

Back in the car she swivelled his rear view mirror around and judiciously applied the foundation and colour to blend away the marks. Tommy could not recall ever seeing her like this and was astounded by the change. "You look so different Barbara." He wished he could kiss her.

"A new look for a new rank," she joked making her final checks in the mirror, "it will do Sir. No one will notice."

"I don't know if you heard me last night but I meant what I said." He looked at her with such genuine affection that it frightened her more than his violence.

"I know you think you mean it and you might, I don't know. But we need to get you sorted first before we even think about that. So we need to find a murderer and get back to London."

He smiled at her; she was going to make a great DI. "Yes ma'am!"


	5. Chapter 5

As he drove the short distance to the theatre Barbara prioritised the day. She would have liked to ignore the case and head straight back to London but that was not going to happen. They needed to go through the information they had prised from the interviews yesterday to narrow down those with motive and opportunity but first she wanted to look at the crime scene again. It was virtually impossible for the slaying to have occurred outside the room. Moving a body with a six foot battle axe embedded at right angles in the head would require dexterity beyond a single murderer. So the killing either occurred in the room or they were looking for multiple perpetrators.

"I think we are missing something in that room Sir. We should look at that first."

"I agree but you have to stop calling me Sir, it sounds odd. You need to gain their respect Barbara, not let them think you are under training."

"Yeah, I suppose. Thanks. Old habits die hard Lynley." He looked across and smiled. He could not believe how much he loved her and why he had not realised what is was before. Now he doubted he would ever have the opportunity to do anything about it. At best they might get back to where they were but how could she ever trust him? What he had done sickened him.

"Much better but you can use Tommy if you like." He was trying to sound as cheeky as he could.

"Don't push your luck," she said almost lulled into believing that they were back to their old ways but she knew it was far from that simple. She could see straight through his bravado as she had no doubt he could see through hers."You need to stick close today and the first hint of any issue, tell me."

"I will." His voice was low and remorseful and he was focussing on reversing into a car space.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He smiled at her, his lips pursed together into an awkward slit.

"Good, as soon as you can we have to ring your doctor too," she said as they got out of the car.

"We?" He had not expected her to want to talk to the doctor. He was embarrassed enough by what she knew. He did not want her to learn anything that he might have discussed. "I don't feel comfortable with that."

"Whatever this is you can't do it alone and you don't have to try. I'm not going to give up on you but I have to understand everything, otherwise it won't work and I have to walk away. What do want me to do Tommy?"

She was looking at him so intently he had trouble sorting logic from emotion; emotion won. "Okay. We will talk to him." He looked across at her surprised that she could be so positive and supportive and by the use of his name, "so is it Tommy now?"

"I can separate professional and personal. Now Lynley are you coming or what?"

As they walked she summarized the interviews. The softness and affection in her voice from just seconds before had been replaced by the efficiency of Acting DI Havers. "Ruth Ravensfoot was talented but not well liked; in fact it was fair to say most of the cast and crew hated her. She was temperamental, egotistical and sullen. I'm hard pressed to find someone without a motive."

"Is being an obnoxious enough?"

"No, there has to be something extra but we might need to look at opportunity and means to narrow he list."

They examined the room in detail. It was a standard dressing room about ten foot wide and slightly longer. The walls were a dark colour accentuating the mirrored dressing table surrounded by light bulbs which cast a glow onto the assortment of stage makeup and moisturizers lining on the surface. The costumes hung on a rack to the left of the table. The chair had a gold metal frame and gaudy red velvet upholstery but was otherwise unremarkable. There was a dark brown stain on the carpet where her head had been but again they were surprised at how small the stain was in comparison to the brutality of the crime. There was no window, no manhole in the roof and no false or removable walls. From every angle the room had only one way out, the door.

"What did forensics say about the small bloodstain?" Lynley asked.

"She died instantly which restricted blood flow. She was struck from behind but if someone came in she might have seen them in the mirror." She sat in the chair and checked the angles. "Stand in the door and let me see."

"Well?" he asked impatiently. He felt decidedly foolish as he stood waving his arms around.

"Possibly but you can only really see heads and shoulders. She knew everyone so it may not have been a surprise for her for them to come in."

"Hmmm, but it probably narrows the list to people she would expect to see."

"We are missing something obvious aren't we?" Barbara wondered if she was out of her depth leading this case.

"What else did the autopsy show?"

"Basically that she died from a single hit from the axe. Otherwise she was about as healthy as you standard forty-six year old woman. She had given birth at some stage but we have no record of any children. I've got Winston checking on that now but I'm not sure it is overly relevant. This seems to be related to the play."

"It certainly seems that way but we should keep our minds open. What's your theory?"

"Theories are more your thing. I just try to tell you why you are wrong."

"That's my role now. So what's your theory?"

"MacQuarie. I've got a feeling about him but I can't say what it is or why he did it."

Lynley studied the lock and doorframe. There was a standard door lock as well as a bolt that could only be locked from the inside. "Who found the body?"

"Weren't you paying attention in the interviews?"

"Frankly no," he said looking down, "I had some things on my mind."

"It was MacQuarie and the director, David Rampe. They were annoyed she missed the curtain call and snubbed the cast drinks. They both had the same story, they knocked and when there was no answer but the door was locked they forced it open."

"Why?"

"What do mean?" she asked.

"Well how did they know it wasn't only the lock that was was preventing entry? Did they try a key?"

Barbara checked her notes. "I don't know Sir...Tommy, er Lynley."

"Do you want to try Lord Asherton too?" he teased. He was actually enjoying working like this today. It had been a long time since he had felt that way. "We should ask."

Barbara examined the bolt mechanism which hung limply from the only screw that remained in place. The timbers had clearly fractured. "Yeah but the bolt must have been locked. It pulled away from the wall when they smashed in the door. The room must have been locked."

"So what's your next step Barbara?"

She looked at him strangely. It felt odd not having him race off and her trail behind. She looked at her watch. It was a bit after nine o'clock. "What time can we ring your doctor?"

Tommy stopped smiling. "After ten."

"Okay. Seeing you clearly weren't paying attention yesterday I need you to go through the interview notes, look for anything odd or anything that gives us motive or opportunity. That battle axe was kept with the rest of the props near the stage. See who used it in the play. They found about six sets of prints on it but let's see whose prints should be there and if anyone's shouldn't be. I have a couple of calls of my own to make but I'll be back in ten minutes."

He could see she was concerned. "I'll be okay, don't worry. I feel...calm, but I'll stay by myself."

When Barbara returned twenty minutes later Tommy had narrowed down the list to three suspects. "Rampe had motive because Ravensfoot wanted to use the get out clause in her contract and not continue in the extended run. He would have needed a new Lady Macbeth."

"Yeah but he needs one now too."

"They can either stop the play now and the public will understand or they can use it as publicity. I think this is much better for him than losing an actress, that never looks good for a director."

"Okay, point taken. Who else?"

"MacQuarie. He's an odd one. I made a call, he was expelled from Eton for stealing which is probably why I don't remember him and yet he makes a big deal about telling people he went there. He also has a reputation for bedding every leading lady but somehow I think he might have failed with this one and they have never worked together before."

"So you murder someone because they won't sleep with you?"

"Stranger things have happened. Is your neck sore?" His voice was tender and caring as he asked.

Barbara was surprised by the question, unaware she had been rubbing it. "A bit, it's not bad."

Tommy came close to her. He wanted to hug her and kiss her neck until it healed but he tried to force those thoughts away. "I will make it up to you, I promise."

This was not the time. "Who else?"

"The stage hand, Veet. He could move around unnoticed and had access to all the props and technology."

"Yeah?" Barbara was surprised. "I had him on my least likely list. What motive would he have?"

"I don't know Barbara, but in the interview there was something about him."

"So you were paying attention."

"At some level."

"We'll re-interview all three but first we have to phone your doctor."

Tommy sighed and followed her outside where they would not be disturbed. They were unaware that from the shadows near the entrance they were being watched.


	6. Chapter 6

The river Avon was peaceful as the narrow boats and row boats navigated the slow current, moving in and out of the shadows cast by the drooping willows. Tommy and Barbara had found a grassy nook behind the theatre where they would be undisturbed and stood looking silently at the last colours of autumn on the trees. Despite the peaceful surroundings Barbara was not happy. "I don't like him and I don't trust him."

"Be reasonable Barbara. Hardwick's a top Harley Street specialist. I'm paying him a fortune. You heard what he said, this can happen but I should continue to take them." Tommy was not looking at her. She had been quite curt with the doctor and had definitely implied that she was his partner in more than a police sense. In a way that pleased him but it would be very hard to explain at his next visit. Tommy tried to remember what he had told Hardwick about her because the doctor had never suggested that he might be in love with her. _But why would he? Surely if anyone should have recognised it, it should have been me! Then again maybe that was just a product of last night._

"Maybe if you weren't paying him a fortune he could afford to admit he is wrong. It is not normal to almost kill someone Sir!"

Tommy was starting to get annoyed. "I am aware of that but since when are you an expert?"

"Stuart said that..."

"Lafferty? You talked about this with Lafferty?" Tommy was now angry.

"No, I asked him a general question about whether antidepressants have been linked to violence. He assumed it was related to the case. I would never talk about you like that."

"I'm sorry but this whole thing is very...sensitive and difficult." Tommy was relieved that despite his reaction to Lafferty's involvement he did not have any of his rage building.

"I know and I do understand. I am only trying to help you. Stuart said the type of drugs you are on have been linked to increased rates of violence, both self-harm and violence towards others. It is a common side effect but it does happen, especially if the dose is too high or they prescribe the wrong type. Some of them are better for some conditions than others apparently. The thing is, if you've had that reaction and keep taking them it might _seem_ to settle out but a trigger can set you off and who knows the consequences."

"And you don't think my doctor would have taken all that into account?" he snapped.

"Yes but look at the facts. When did you start taking them?"

"About a month ago."

"And when did you first start noticing a disinterest in work and the anger?"

"About three weeks ago."

"And when do you take them?"

"One each night."

"And when do you feel worse?"

"At night and in the morning." He was growing weary of this game.

"And you don't think it is related?"

"Yes I do, of course I do, but you heard the doctor, just stopping them could be worse."

"We can get help with that though; wean you off them. It is better than risking what might happen."

Tommy swept his hand backwards through his hair as he wrestled with his growing unease. He agreed with Barbara that he needed to stop taking them but he was scared of the hallucinations and withdrawal that the doctor had outlined but he was also scared of what he might do. He was confused and becoming more stressed. "I think I should go back to London."

"Why?"

"What if something happens until I am off them, or later? What if the effect stays? I don't know what to do; how to manage this whole…situation. It is out of control Barbara. I am out of control."

"We can't work in possibilities. We need to do what needs to be done and then handle whatever comes. There is no easy way but we have to try."

He shook his head, not in disagreement but to clear his thoughts. "I assumed the anger was a sign the blackness was lifting. I thought it would subside and I'd start to feel normal again but it only got worse. I am really struggling to face myself right now and do you know how hard it is to face you after last night? Do you know how ashamed I am? I want to run but I don't think I can because you are the only link I have to feeling sane. I should have told you earlier about it all but I was too embarrassed. I thought you would think I was weak." The speech exhausted him and he slumped back against the wall, tears welling in his eyes.

"No never. You're human Sir, with human emotions and needs. I don't know why you always think you should be able to manage your emotions so much." Her voice was even and calm.

"Stiff upper lip and all that. I never have been able to manage them that's why I try extra hard. I thought you of all people would understand that."

She looked at him standing there with his head bowed and it took all her strength to resist the urge to hug him. That would be too easy, too forgiving. She needed him to understand how serious this was but that she was there for him. "I do, that's why we can't pretend with each other. You and me, our friendship, that's the one safe place we both have to go," she said softly touching his arm in reassurance.

"I know. I am so sorry a Barbara, I should have talked to you but I couldn't, either with this or after Helen was killed. I don't know why."

"Because then you would have had to face it, no excuses and no running away. You weren't ready for that but you could have told me you were under pressure."

"I can't do this alone." They looked at each other wordlessly and both understood. Tommy nodded then said, "we have to solve this case first then we can decide what to do."

"You are not alone. Let's start with MacQuarie and then see what where that leads us."

The makeshift interview room was a rehearsal room lined with large pictures of famous actors in Shakespearean costumes. Barbara chose to sit in front of the most ominous of all Lady Macbeths which impressed Tommy. "Hoping to unnerve them?"

"It may help. I'm willing to try any trick."

MacQuarie had an arrogance that irritated Barbara but she knew she had to maintain neutrality and control. She still believed he was the most likely suspect but knew he would never confess; that would be beneath him. He dressed like a pretentious prep, in beige trousers, a pastel blue shirt and a cream jumper tied around his neck. It reminded her of the way she had tied her jumper in the morning which made her even angrier.

"Why am I back here? I told you everything I knew yesterday," he said rounding out his vowels and speaking very slowly as if to an idiot.

Tommy noticed the tell-tale shifting of Barbara's head. She was fighting the urge to say something cutting so he stepped in. "We have re-examined the crime scene and have a few more questions."

Barbara noticed MacQuarie respond to Lynley's smooth educated baritone. She could use that to her advantage. "Tell us ag'n how ya found the body," she said in her roughest Acton idiom with an edge that her voice had lost through years of working with Tommy. She saw the flash of recognition in Tommy's eyes. He had worked out what she was doing.

MacQuarie sighed ostentatiously then replied in a perfect mimic of Lynley's tone, "Ruth did not come to drinks after the show. She did that sometimes but it was disrespectful and she wasn't even trying to fit in with the cast. So Davey and I came down to give her a piece of our minds! It just was not good enough. Anyway the door was locked and so after beating on it for a while with no reply we forced it open."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because normally she would shout back and tell us off but this time there was nothing. We thought she might have taken an overdose or something. We never expected…well THAT!"

Lynley's shifted his seat closer. "So was she a known addict?"

"She was a cokehead, everyone knew that. She made no secret of it and she certainly sold it to others in the cast. It helped her get up for the performance but man, she took a lot." Barbara and Tommy looked at each other noticing that the perfect English accent had dropped considerably.

"Including you?" Lynley enquired pointedly.

"No! I never touch that poison. It is a quick way to obscurity."

Lynley was unconvinced. "Really. So what gets you 'up' for a performance?"

"I'm an actor. I like the rush of performing; making the audience react, good or bad, and then having them applaud me because they like how I made them feel."

Havers cut in. "So are you performing now?"

"No! Look l have nothing to hide and haven't done anything wrong here. Now if you don't mind I would like to get back to rehearsals. We are looking for a new Lady M." the actor stood with a well-rehearsed flourish.

"So soon? So the play is going to go on?" Havers was surprised.

"Yes, Davey thought it would be the best way to honour Ruth, even if she was a complete bitch."

"Sit down we haven't finished yet. When did you first start acting?" Lynley's question was from left field and both Havers and MacQuarie looked at him. The actor sat meekly back on his chair.

"At school. I enjoyed it and continued on to drama school and my career took off from there."

"At Eton?"

MacQuarie's eyes narrowed but his smile remained fixed. "Yes."

"How long were you at Eton?"

"Why? How can that possibly impact on the murder?" MacQuarie was now staring at the picture behind Havers head.

"It doesn't, I'm just curious."

"Six years."

"Really? What house?"

MacQuarie became suspicious and answered more cautiously, "Keate House."

Tommy smiled and looked to the ceiling as if trying to recall an image. "Hmm even so I thought I might remember you but I don't. I would have recognised a star of the stage."

"You were at Eton?"

"Yes, theoretically at the same time as you so it puzzles me why I don't remember you."

"All right. I was only there for a term. I was wrongly accused of theft and sent down." He shifted around on his seat.

Barbara watched the exchange with interest, Lynley had him rattled. "So if you lie about that what else are ya lyin' about?" she asked.

"Nothing. Look it sounds good for a Shakespearean actor to have links to a prestigious college like Eton. I milk it but that doesn't make me an axe murderer."

Barbara was like a terrier snapping at his heels. "No but it does make you a liar. So tell me again why did you break down the door?"

"Because we thought she was inside and the door was locked."

"How did you know?"

"We tried the handle. It was locked."

It was Lynley's turn. "Did you look for a key?"

MacQuarie sat up in his seat. "No, no we didn't. Davey just started ramming the door and I helped him. We had to ram it a couple of times before it gave way."

Lynley nodded almost imperceptibly at Havers. "Thank you. We will be in touch if we need to ask you any more questions."

MacQuarie left the room hastily without further word. Barbara stared at Tommy. "You had him squirming then you just let him go. Why?"

"Because he didn't do it."


	7. Chapter 7

"Sorry but I thought I was in charge of this case!" Barbara's expression would have frozen the river outside had she looked at it.

"You are. I was just trying to save time." Tommy was not interested in her objections, he wanted to finish this and sort out the mess he called his life.

"So why isn't he guilty?"

"Because he told us the lock gave way after only a couple of shoves. If he was guilty he would have made it sound like a lot more."

"I don't follow. You're being too, I don't know, too Lynley!"

Tommy was bemused. "And that's a bad thing given the circumstances?"

"No I suppose not. You're not going to explain are you?"

"No. You're smart, you'll work it out. Let's talk to Rampe." Tommy's smile pleased her as much as it irritated her.

David Rampe was very open and seemingly honest in his answers and Barbara could not find any motivation for the crime. He had felt sorry for Ravensfoot because of her drug addiction and had cast her as a way of trying to bring her back. Barbara and Tommy exchanged awkward looks. He had not been concerned about her missing cast drinks but claimed to be worried about her mental health. He thought she was at risk of suicide.

"So you have a woman with a history of depression and drug use and you cast her as Lady Macbeth," Lynley accused him, "knowing that the character goes mad and commits suicide. You don't think that might have been tempting fate? Maybe she didn't suicide fast enough so you decided to kill her."

"No, it wasn't like that." Rampe was genuinely horrified. "I loved her! I want to find her murderer as much as anyone."

"Why didn't you tell us this yesterday?" Barbara demanded.

"Because I knew how it would look and I didn't want her name dragged through the mud because she was ill. People don't understand, they simply judge. That's why the cast didn't like her. They didn't understand how hard it was for her just to function each day. MacQuarie was the worst; he was so eager to find fault in everything she did simply because she was immune to his charms."

Tommy felt uncomfortable. _There but for the grace of God go I!_ "Yes, well we do not judge anything except whether or not someone has motive and is guilty. Tell us the story please." His tone was much harsher than he had intended.

"When we were at drama school together we became lovers. We were head over heels about each other; you know that dopey innocent first love. She left suddenly and I was devastated. Years later I discovered she had given birth to our son and had adopted him out but at the time, when she re-appeared in my life I refused to have anything to do with her. She had broken my heart and I told her I could never forgive her. Of course I forgave her the second she walked out the door but she never came back to give me a chance. Ruth was never the same and drifted in and out of a series of bad relationships. She rang me last year. She could not cope any longer and she said I was her last hope. So I started to help her. We fell in love again and she was stable, apart from her addiction. I thought having her close to me would help. She was getting better slowly and then this happens." Rampe buried his head in his hands and started to cry.

Tommy looked distressed so Barbara continued. "I am sorry for you loss Mr Rampe but we just have a few more questions. Do you know what happened to your son?"

"No, I don't even know his name or even the date he was born. Ruth never wanted to talk about it. It was too painful for her. I think someone tried to contact her a few months ago though but she never responded."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes positive. She thought whatever life he had it would have been better than she could have offered. I would have married her and we could have been a family but she never gave me the chance. She never believed in us."

Everyone was silent for a few awkward moments each thinking about their own relationships. Tommy recovered sufficiently to continue. "How hard was it to knock down the door?"

Rampe confirmed MacQuarie's account about opening the door and Tommy smiled. "Thank you Mr Rampe." He caught Barbara's look and hastily added, "any other questions DI Havers?"

"No, thank you but we might need to talk to you again."

"I'll be in the theatre; we are re-casting so that the show can continue. I think that is what Ruth would have wanted."

Lynley and Havers decided to take a break and strolled up the river to a coffee house that had a back deck by the river. Tommy bought a cake just to feed the ducks which made Barbara smile. As they sat next to each other on a bench drinking their coffee they reviewed the interviews.

"So what do you think?" he asked her.

"That we need Winston to find out more about the son."

"Yes, anything else?" he prompted.

"Yeah, I believe Rampe. He sounded as if he genuinely loved her. I can't imagine him killing her."

"You can love someone and still kill them."

"Enough of the self-pity. There'll be time for that later. Today I want to find a killer."

Tommy had not been thinking about last night, it has merely been an observation. Barbara was appearing strong but it must have traumatised her. He worried that she no longer felt safe alone with him. He decided to stick strictly to the case, "what else did you notice?"

"You can be very smug when you work something clever out. You know how the murder got out of the room don't you?"

"Yes."

"Care to enlighten us mere plebs?"

"Think about it Barbara. What do we know about the locks?"

"That there was an ordinary door lock and a bolt that could only be locked from inside. Both were locked when the door was broken in because the bolt was hanging from the wall and the timber around the main lock was smashed."

"Really?" He was trying hard for her to see the connection without telling her outright. "There is no other possible way those things could happen?"

"Only if the bolt had been pulled off the wall earlier." She paused and stared at him wide-eyed. "Oh…I get it. The bolt was done before the murder and then all the killer had to do was latch the door lock and slip out."

"Bravo Acting DI Havers. We simply assumed the bolt and the door lock were broken at the same time, but the force needed to open the door with the bolt in place would have been a lot more than Rampe or MacQuarie told us. If they were the murderers they would have exaggerated the force they needed to ensure we continued to believe both were in place. The scene was staged to look like it was impossible and throw attention onto the two people who had broken down the door. They were seemingly the only ones who could have murdered her after the door was broken and before calling anyone."

"Do you think the killer was trying to frame Rampe or MacQuarie?"

"Yes."

"But how could the killer be sure they would find the body?"

"Observation. MacQuarie was always out to make Ruth look bad and Rampe was always protecting her. It was bound to be one of them or both."

Barbara smiled. "With a mind like yours why are you leaving the force?" Tommy's smug grin vanished and his face clouded over and Barbara regretted her words. "Sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be. I don't want to leave really. I don't want to leave you." Tommy leant over and kissed her gently.

"Don't." Barbara pushed him away. She could still feel the soft press of his lips on hers and her heart pounded. She had been tempted to give in to the moment but she had to know it was real. She could not afford to lose his friendship in the aftermath of some disastrously embarrassing affair. He was troubled and lonely and needed her. She knew he loved her but that could easily be mistaken for being in love with her. He had never shown any romantic inclination to her before and with some sadness she doubted he understood what he felt.

"I'm sorry. I thought you might feel the same way but I understand; I really do." Tommy stood and started to walk away slowly. She would never trust him fully again and he hated himself for what he had done to her and to their relationship.

"Tommy wait. Listen. I…I can't let myself get involved in that way, not yet. It would destroy me to find it wasn't real. Let me just love you as your friend."

_It would destroy me to find it wasn't real. _Her words echoed in his ears. It would demolish him too. She was right, of course but her words did give him hope. If she did not feel something she would just tell him. He sat down again and looked at her. "I count on it, I always have. If it is real will you know?"

"Yes." She sounded so sure that all he could do was grin at her.

They sat silently for a few minutes before returning to the theatre; Tommy thinking about the case and Barbara thinking about Tommy and the complexity of love. There was something so violent about this crime that she suspected love or rejection or both as the cause.

"Do you think Veet might be Ruth's son?" she asked idly, "that would give him motive and he's about the right age."

Tommy smiled at her. "Who said you were just a pretty face?"

"Actually nobody…ever!" she said flatly. Tommy bit his tongue. He knew not to venture into dangerous territory and no answer to that would be the right one.

"Wanting it to be so doesn't mean it is though. We have to prove it and that he murdered her." He had noticed that her scarf had slipped on one side exposing some bruising. "Barbara wait." As he helped her re-adjust it the shame and remorse flooded back. "I will find a way to make it up to you." he said as he gently stroked under her ear.

Barbara noticed that she had unconsciously tilted her head into his palm and quickly shook his hand free. "You can, by getting better. Now let's talk to Veet."

From his vantage point Veet could not hear what they were saying but he had seen enough to know they were more than colleagues and that they had a secret. He had been watching them looking for a weakness he could exploit and he had found it. He smiled menacingly as he entered the theatre.


	8. Chapter 8

Tommy was feeling restless as he paced up and down the corridor. The bruising on her neck had darkened and with it his mood. Tiny beads of water formed under his hairline. He was not angry now but he was becoming anxious and fretful and being in this building with its dark curtains and timber work and dim lighting made him feel claustrophobic. He was not wearing a tie but he pulled at his collar to get it away from his throat and undid another button to reduce the pull of the shirt across his chest. He knew he had not been well since that night when the shot rang out across the carpark and Helen had fallen but he suspected he was slipping further and further from reality.

Barbara was checking in with Winston before they interviewed Joel Veet. When she returned she could tell his mood had changed and began to worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he snapped.

"Clearly something is," she said, "is it what I said by the river?"

"No, I'm just irritable and can't seem to focus. Seeing those bruises on your neck again reminded me of everything. I wasn't too bad earlier but now I've got this sense of...not panic exactly but unease. It's as if something horrible is going to happen and I can't stop it or control it."

"Just go easy on yourself eh. You can't expect to suddenly feel fine; it won't work that way but you have to keep talking to me, otherwise I can't help."

"I know; thanks." His grim smile spoke of his pain and his gratitude and Barbara realised what a long journey lay ahead of them.

"Are you up to the interview?" she asked sympathetically.

"I think so." He checked the time. "It's nearly twelve did you want early lunch and then do it?"

Barbara almost reminded him that they had just had a half hour break for coffee but he obviously needed more time. "Yeah, good idea. Where do you fancy?"

"What about we pick up a sandwich and sit by the river? I'm not up to crowds today."

Once he was outside Tommy began to relax. "Sorry I just needed to get out of there for a while. There is something about it that gets to me. I have this awful foreboding." They turned south to walk along the river. There was a lunch place down near the narrowboat dock that served sandwiches.

"What did Winston find out?" Tommy made an effort to focus.

"He had been looking at her past for me. The child was registered as Jeffrey Smith and was given to an orphanage twenty four years ago. From what Winston can gather he was never adopted out which is unusual for a baby. The orphanage closed down a few years ago under a huge cloud regarding cruelty so he may've had a very unpleasant childhood. I gave him Veet's name to do a background check. He'll ring me back as soon as he finds anything."

"So how do you want to handle the interview?"

"I think we need to probe a bit. Let's start with the facts around the murder and move from there into his past. You think it's him don't you?"

"I know it's him Barbara."

They ate their sandwiches at a table near the dock. Tommy spoke first, "once we wrap this up how are we going to manage the next bit?"

Barbara knew what he meant but had avoided thinking about it. "I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"I agree with you. I am driving myself insane. I need to get off these pills as fast as I can but I don't fancy the idea of being sedated in some clinic somewhere. I was hoping perhaps you and I could manage it but not at Howenstowe or London. I have a place in mind that would be perfect."

"Is that safe? I'm not trained for that sort of thing." Barbara did not like the idea of him lying drugged, alone and frightened in a hospital bed but she had assumed they would be in London and wean him off over a few weeks where they had access to help.

"But you know me better than anyone else. No one else can support me like you can but if it gets really bad you could call someone."

"What happened to weaning you slowly?"

"Yeah, I know that is better but I can't live like this too much longer. I am driving myself insane. I want to do it as fast as we can. Not necessarily cold turkey but a very quick weaning process." His tone brooked no argument and Barbara knew nothing she could say would sway him.

"I'll have to find an excuse for Hillier. One case and then I need leave, he'll love that." Barbara was not overly ambitious and had no doubts about which choice she would make but she had hoped to earn a level of trust from Hillier.

Tommy understood. "I'll fix it with him. It won't reflect on you."

"You'll tell him?"

"If I have to."

"Don't rush it. Let's get out of here first and then decide." Tommy nodded and they finished their lunch in silence before they went to interrogate Veet.

The interview started by establishing where the stagehand had been before the body was discovered. He claimed to have been backstage moving the props and helping the actors during the play. After it finished he tidied the props then went to the cast drinks and had been with other actors when Rampe and MacQuarie had found the body. That tallied with the other witness accounts.

"How long does it normally take to tidy the props?" Barbara asked.

"About ten or fifteen minutes."

"And to get to the drinks you had to pass the dressing rooms?"

"Yes."

Tommy chimed in. "Did you hear anything as you passed Ruth's room or see anyone else down there?"

"No."

"Did you ever go into the dressing rooms?"

"Yeah sometimes. I looked after the props and costumes. Sometimes I had to deliver them and stuff."

"When did you first meet Ruth?" Barbara was trying a different line of questioning.

"When the rehearsals started."

"What made you become a stagehand?"

Veet looked surprised by that question but was cool and was giving nothing away. "Something different and I like the costumes."

"Why not in London? It's a long way to come here isn't it?" Tommy was trying to delve into Veet's past a bit more.

"Nothing in London for me and this is the home of Shakespeare so it was exciting."

"Have you always liked Shakespeare Jeff?"

"Yeah, lots of fights and sex." He responded to the change of name without blinking. Barbara and Tommy both noticed.

"Are you a violent man Mr Smith?" Tommy's voice had almost a cruel coolness to it that made Barbara shiver.

Veet lost any pretence of civility at confirmation that they knew but he did not break down and confess. He had not endured years of mental abuse and beatings to surrender. "Veet, my name is Veet."

Tommy was playing with him like a cat played with a mouse. "Ah sorry, of course, sorry. Veet is an unusual name. Where does it come from?"

"I don't know and I don't really care. Now if you have finished with your questions I'll leave you to it." He started to stand.

"Sit where you are," Barbara ordered.

Veet's demeanour changed as he sat. "You two have nothing on me that you can prove. You can suspect all you like but it's all circumstantial but I have a lot on you."

Barbara and Tommy exchanged puzzled glances. "Is that so Smith?" Tommy's patience was clearly at an end.

"Yeah, I know what public schoolboys like you like to do with your little piece of rough here," he said pointing at Barbara and laughing, "tie her up do you? Do you beat her? Do you whip until she bleeds or do you just choke her? Those bruises are a dead giveaway. Who gets off on it first? You or her?"

Tommy's face darkened not only with the blood that had flooded it but with the same look of rage Barbara had seen last night. He launched himself at Veet across the table but missed. Veet threw his chair back against the wall as he stood, sniggered his contempt. Barbara tried to restrain Tommy worried about what he might do. Lynley shook Barbara off roughly but Veet had escaped from the room. Tommy pursued Veet down the corridor. He could hear Barbara screaming something at him as he ran but his focus was solely on Veet who had disappeared behind the stage.

He stopped to get his bearings and calm himself. He knew what he was capable of doing and he needed to try to control it. Something swung down from behind him and he ducked instinctively as he saw a shadow. The sword blade whooshed past his ear. He turned to see Veet menacing a broad sword. Lynley smiled grimly. "A prop, what damage to you expect to do with that?" he asked.

"But you are wrong, these are real, not rubber. It is the choreography that stops any damage and you are moving to my tune now."

"Stop!" Barbara shouted breathlessly from behind Veet.

"Or what you stupid bitch?" Veet turned his head to look quickly at her but held the sword in both hands, high above his shoulder ready to crash it down on Tommy. "Worried I might castrate lover boy here are you sweetheart?"

The insult tipped Tommy and before Veet could turn his head back to aim his strike he tackled him to the ground. As they wrestled the sword came free and Barbara stooped and picked it up. Fists flew wildly as the men fought. They rolled around furiously and Tommy landed blow after blow to Veet's face. Blood poured from a cut above his eye and dripped onto the floor. Veet attacked Lynley's kidneys and body with a flurry of punches that started to take their toll. Tommy heard one of his ribs crack loudly as Veet thudded heavily into him.

Barbara tried to intervene but was punched and fell away. Veet struck Tommy hard in the chest on the side of his damaged ribs and winded him. As Tommy gasped for breath Veet ran behind the painted scenery that was near the stage. Tommy grabbed the sword from Barbara and tore off after him, panting heavily as he danced between the scenery panels. She ran around the other side hoping to cut Veet off but could not see where Veet had gone. Tommy could see him and Barbara and that foreboding feeling rushed back.

"Havers look out!" he cried in warning but it was a second too late.


	9. Chapter 9

Veet sprang at Barbara gripping another broadsword he had pulled from the prop bin. Hearing Tommy's warning she had swerved to her left but felt a searing pain shoot through her right leg and into her groin. She looked down to see the sword being pulled from the flesh at the top of her thigh. Had she not moved, it would have disembowelled her. Despite her attempt to stay on her feet she fell backwards and sprawled onto the floor of the stage at the base of the scenery. The first panel dominoed into the next as they tumbled loudly to the floor. Blood ran over her leg and pooled at the base of one of the trees of Birnam Wood. Consciousness became an abstract shadow.

Veet raised his sword ready to strike her again. Tommy saw her fall and a seething madness took over his senses. He was behind Veet and lunged at him with his sword. He missed as Veet swirled to face him and their blades clanged together ferociously. The stagehand had experience handling the awkward weapon having helped to drill the actors for their battle scenes so he easily parried Lynley's next thrust. Barbara's blood sprayed from the top of the blade as Veet stabbed at him and settled in a thin line across Lynley's face. Tommy brought his hand up to wipe its sting from his eye. Veet charged again and they crashed against a panel of trees, their swords crossed between their chests. They pushed off each other and cautiously circled looking for an opening their opponent's defence.

In the gloom it was hard to see each other's faces but a light from backstage glinted off the honed edges reflecting eerie light across Birnam Wood. Barbara looked on disbelievingly at Tommy and Veet duelling in the forest, believing it to be an unearthly dream. Tommy had fenced at Eton and Oxford but he found it was no training for a real sword fight. The four foot long blade grew heavier in his hands with each stroke. His arms ached and his shoulder clicked painfully with each stroke. His opponent was much younger and fitter but Tommy had to protect Barbara whatever the cost. He called to Barbara but she did not answer. His only consolation was her loud groans telling him she was still alive despite the blood that seeped further towards the edge of the stage. Lynley advanced across the stage waving his sword in large figures of eight and pushing Veet backwards. Their blades clashed in a torrent of blows as they both fought to kill the other. As they reached the edge he ducked under the policeman's leading edge and forced Tommy onto the precipice above the orchestra pit. Tommy was balanced delicately and as Veet thrust his blade forward hoping for a kill Tommy jumped to his right and evaded the blow.

Each of the stage lights snapped on in sequence illuminating the scene. Tommy slashed the blade across Veet's arm when the younger man paused in surprise at the sudden brightness. Veet yelped with the pain but held firm. He and Tommy stood facing each other swords pointed at each other's chests. The heaving of Tommy's breathing was the only sound. The first to move or falter would be run through by the other.

"Joel, stop!" Tommy recognised Rampe's voice. Veet swore savagely at him but the director was undeterred. "Joel did you kill Ruth?"

Veet's eyes never left Tommy's. "I'm not Joel, I'm Jeff Smith and yes, I murdered the stupid bitch. She finally worked out who I was and wanted to play happy families."

The shock in Rampe's voice was unmistakable. "You're her son?"

"Oh so you knew her dirty little secret did you? She abandoned me to a home. She cried when I told her how they beat me and how when I was eight they started to rape me. I showed her the scars on my back and she expected me to run into her arms for comfort. She had no idea. She deserved to die."

"Every day she regretted leaving you but she did it because she thought you'd be adopted out to a family who would love you. I'm so sorry son."

"Son?"

"I'm your father! Ruth never told me she was pregnant. She just disappeared. I only found out last year."

"You bastard!" Smith turned and struck at Rampe narrowly missing Lynley's moving blade. Rampe leapt aside as his son crashed at his feet, his sword clattering out of reach. Rampe reacted quickly with a furious desire for revenge that Lynley understood. Father attacked son, kicking him viscously in the head. Smith went limp and Lynley pulled Rampe away before the second blow landed.

"Leave him. Call an ambulance!" Tommy shouted. He ran over to Barbara stripping off his shirt. He wrapped the shirt tightly over the cut in her thigh to stem the flow of blood then noticed the wound near her groin. He undid his belt and threaded it around her thigh and over the cut. He tensioned it as much as he could as he tried to reassure her. "It's not too bad Barbara; you'll be as good as gold in no time." He only wished he believed it as he cradled her head in his lap. He never noticed the tears that streamed down his face.

An eternity passed for Tommy before the paramedics arrived. As he sat waiting he could not help but think about the time she had been shot and he had been so shocked all he could do was call her name. When Helen had been shot he had frozen completely. It had been Barbara who reacted and tried to save her. This time at least he had not panicked and had actually done something. Blood was no longer flowing from the wounds and as he ran his fingers lightly down her face he only hoped it was enough.

As he held her he struggled to find the words to tell her how he felt. How was he going to ever be able to explain the depth and sincerity of his love when he had tried to kill her less than twenty-four hours before? Why would she even believe him let alone trust him? To him love had always been a heady emotion. Like a teenager he was caught up in lust and allure and its glorious, misleading imitation of being in love. With Helen he thought it was different, that he had grown up. He had been her friend and that bond had been the basis for commitment. They had seemed ideal for each other and there had been moments of fun and desire but no unquenchable passion. The spark of attraction had faded to duty soon enough.

Barbara was also his friend but at times when he had considered it, and he had contemplated it over the years, he had always convinced himself that he was not in love with Barbara. Any physical attraction he felt he always dismissed as biological instinct. He had assured himself his feelings were love on a higher plane; an intimate meeting of minds. A true friendship. He was closer to her than he had been to anyone. They squabbled and disagreed passionately and he sometimes wondered how he could even like her but he did not have to tell her everything as he had with Helen, she just knew and accepted his rough edges and imperfections, as he accepted her.

Now, as he sat worried he would lose her, he understood how wrong he had been. It was indeed love on a higher plane because it was a total love. He needed her in a way he had never needed Deborah or Helen. He desired her beyond physical; he wanted to make love to her mind, her soul. He wanted to immerse himself totally in her and have her lose herself in him. What he felt was more balanced than with any other woman. He was committed to her. He had never thought about it, he just expected to have her in his life until he died.

He was so lost in his own thoughts he did not hear her speak but he reacted when she poked him in his ribs. "Arghh!"

"I said, 'did you win Macduff?'"

Tommy was astounded that she knew the reference but nothing should have surprised him with this wonderfully intriguing woman. "Yes, but I had help."

"Good."

"I love you Barbara, more than I've ever loved anyone," he declared earnestly. She smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. He had not even realised he had been holding it all this time.

Veet was transferred to Stratford Hospital and placed under police guard. He was unconscious and would have a headache but he would live. The paramedic wanted to send Tommy there too but when they decided to send Barbara to Warwick Hospital for assessment to make sure no major arteries were damaged and to manage any infection risk Lynley insisted on accompanying her. Tommy quickly organized for his car to be driven to Warwick in case he needed it. Entrusting his car to a local constable was not something he did easily but cars could be replaced, Barbara could not.

On arrival she was whisked away before he had the chance to say anything. A doctor checked his ribs and sent him for x-rays but no one seemed to be able to tell him anything about Barbara. After he had been strapped to protect his three broken bones he went in search of answers. He was worried and irritable. He checked his watch and was surprised it was not yet four o'clock. He eventually charmed a nurse who made enquiries then led him to a ward. "Ms Havers will be back shortly Sir." Tommy thanked then sat down gingerly on a rigid plastic chair to wait. It was hard to find a comfortable position; no matter how he sat some part of him was in pain.

When he woke a little after five Barbara was propped up in the bed looking at him. She had a drip in her arm replenishing her blood and looked tired and haggard. The bruises on her neck had been covered discreetly by bandages but the sight of them brought back all the guilt and shame. Relief overpowered him and he sank forward on the chair his head in his hands. Tommy ran his hands through his hair while he organised his thoughts.

"I was wondering how long you were going to keep snoring," she said.

He winced at the sharp pain in his ribs as he stood and moved to the side of her bed. He tried to sound jovial. "You can talk. I'm up on stage doing my very best Count of Monte Christo impersonation and all I get from the stalls is load groaning!" They both tried to laugh but the pain stopped them abruptly.

"Thank you," Barbara said seriously.

"For what?"

"Hmm, perhaps for saving my life – twice." Tommy looked at her strangely. "If you hadn't called out I would've had my insides sliced open and if you hadn't applied your tourniquet I would've bled to death. So thank you."

"I wasn't going to lose you but it still doesn't make up for last night." Tommy was contrite and it still tore at his heart knowing what he had done.

"I don't know; two positives, one negative, I'd say you're in front Sir."

"It's not that easy though is it?"

"I could be if we let it." They simply looked at each other both trying to assess where they stood. "Are you still going to take me away somewhere mysterious? I think we have the perfect excuse for Hillier now."

"Yes but we might have to wait a few days until they let you out." Tommy had forgotten about the other issue temporarily but sighed knowing it had to be faced.

Barbara smiled at him. "Most of the damage is superficial. My leg is a clean entry and exit wound and apparently my fat layer took most of the blow across the stomach." Tommy grinned mischievously. "Don't you dare say it! Anyway they'll let me out tomorrow morning. What about you?"

"Three broken ribs and severe muscle fatigue." He was supporting his weight by half-sitting on the side of her bed.

"Do you think we are getting too old for this?" she asked as a joke.

Tommy smiled as he said it but he was serious, "probably, you should marry me and we can retire to Cornwall." He leant forward and kissed her lovingly. This time she did not push him away.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a little after ten o'clock in the morning. The pharmacist had just delivered her painkillers and waterproof dressings and Barbara was ready to be discharged. She had expected Tommy to already be here to collect her but there had been no sign of him and she was beginning to worry. She had sent him away about six last night to get a hotel, a meal and some rest. He had insisted on staying with her but he looked so worn and she had needed to sleep. These last months had been hard on him but the last two days had been such an emotional rollercoaster for them both that she was amazed they were still functioning.

She had slept only sporadically, her mind in turmoil. Her pain had been minimal but she was incredibly tired and, pleased though she was to be escaping the confines of the hospital, she was worried about what the next few days would bring. He had refused to tell her where they were going and she was wary. Tommy was determined to get off his anti-depressants as quickly as possible but she would prefer he did it in a controlled manner instead of his usual impulsive way.

Despite her determination to deal with that before even considering his sudden romantic interest in her, when Tommy had kissed her she had been caught up in the spell. It had been a giddy mix of tenderness and intimacy. Unlike most men who had kissed her it spoke of love and respect and not of a prelude to mating. After the tumultuous events of the day it had been too easy to respond to his affection. They had both been emotionally exhausted and vulnerable and at the time it had been comforting and seemed so natural. She regretted that now though; she had enjoyed it too much and it may have set up an expectation in his mind. Selfishly she wanted his declarations of love to be real but she knew him too well. He was being his usual spontaneous, exuberant self with little thought to consequences. Joking about marrying her had set off alarm bells but foolishly she had ignored them and kissed him back with an eagerness that had shocked her. Since when had she thought about him that way? For too long probably. It was good that he was thinking about the future instead of dwelling in the past but she fretted how both of them would take it when he realised what he had thought he felt for her was, in truth, only an illusion.

She was sitting on the side of her bed facing the door, waiting, her concern growing. She imagined all sorts of horrors. At ten past ten she reached for her mobile to call him. She had just hit 'call' when she heard a phone ring in the corridor and he came through the door. "Sorry Barbara, I slept in!" he said breathlessly.

"That's fine Sir. I was just a bit worried."

"Sorry, I should have called to tell you I was running late," he said as he walked slowly towards her. It was obvious that his ribs were still painful. He caught her off guard as he kissed her quickly. "And what happened to Tommy? Are you ready to go?" She nodded. "Right, I'll just get the nurse."

Within half an hour they were in his car and headed south on the M40. Lynley refused to tell her where they were headed. She noticed that driving seemed painful for him and she hoped that they were just going back to London. With their injuries anywhere else would be wasted. The rhythm of the car was relaxing and before long she started to doze. When she woke up it was nearly half past one and she was on a road she did not know. Tommy looked across and smiled. "Welcome back; you dozed off. Are you hungry? We can stop if you like but it will only be about another thirty minutes until we get there."

"I can wait," she said looking around for clues as to where they were, "are you going to tell me where we are going?"

"A little place about fifteen minutes out of Hastings. It will be perfect for our purposes."

_Hastings! Our purposes._ Barbara said nothing but tried to smile. It all sounded too well planned in his mind and she knew it was not going to be anywhere near as easy as he thought. Tommy tried to chat cheerfully about the weather forecast but she was not focussed and he soon left her alone to her thoughts.

Tommy was not feeling as chirpy as he was pretending. He had no delusions about the next few days but he genuinely felt stronger mentally than he had for weeks despite only falling asleep at about five o'clock. He had sat staring at the tablet last night for over an hour debating whether to take it or not or even whether he could cut it in half. In the end he decided to take it and wait until he was alone with Barbara and they could decide together. Today would be tiring for them both and they were still exhausted from not sleeping the night before. He would simply drive down to the house, settle in and see how they both were coping before making any choices or promises. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves as he turned into the long winding driveway.

"Wow! It's magnificent!" Barbara had no other words to describe the house.

The house belonged to Judith who had bought it after her own series of traumas and she had needed to get away from Cornwall. Tommy had only been there once. It was isolated and yet you felt connected to the world because of the views over the water and the rolling hills and lights of Hastings in the distance. The old lime-washed farmhouse had been renovated into a work of art. From the entrance it looked like most of the other farmhouses along the road but behind the façade was a modern minimalist style house that seemed spacious yet cosy; modern yet old. The external walls were made of large glass panels set into limed timber borders which framed the stunning view into individual postcards.

The only internal walls were those separating the two bedrooms and bathroom from the oversized open-planned lounge and gourmet kitchen which had crisp-edged granite benchtops and rich oak-timbered cupboards. A large central fire place drew Barbara's eye and she followed the line of the flue up to the high roof where eight large timber panels met at a peak.

"I thought you would like it," Tommy said pleased as he started to point out the features, "there are plenty of books over there, a stereo here and the television is satellite so we can pick up almost anything you want to watch."

"How did you know about it?"

"It's Judith's. She rents it out but coming on to winter it is off season so we have it for two weeks, longer if we need it. I rang her last night and told her about the case and that we had both been hurt. She understood that we did not want to go down to Mother's to recuperate." He did not add that he had told his sister about his feelings for Barbara and that she had been delighted.

Barbara explored in more detail while Tommy fetched their bags. There was a large outside deck sheltered from the winds that looked over the ocean and town. The house was about fifty yards from the cliff top and she was fascinated by the way the green of the meadow grass seemed to blend into the ocean. Inside the house was sleek. The bathroom was modern with polished concrete floors and panelling and brilliant silver tapware that set off the huge white bathtub in a way that was so inviting Barbara suddenly felt unclean.

"I keep forgetting how much money your family has." Barbara sounded a bit forlorn as she entered the master bedroom where Tommy was arranging their bags. The floors were a dark reddish timber and the enormous bed seemed to float above it. The view was perhaps the best of all the rooms because at night the lights of Hastings would be like fairy lights on the horizon. He moved closer to her but she edged away from him and walked into the other bedroom.

"I'm not trying to show off Barbara."

"No, I know, it's just that my whole flat would probably fit in this bedroom."

The second bedroom was only marginally smaller but with a less impressive view Barbara declared it was definitely the one she should use. Tommy chastised her, "you have to stop thinking you are in some way inferior to me. You're not, never have been and never will be. You're a much stronger and better person than I will ever be and I'm in awe of you." Barbara blushed but did not respond so Tommy continued, "I told you once I'm not good with compliments, so you are now supposed to smile graciously and understand I mean it."

'Thanks. I know. I just feel out of my depth."

Tommy moved closer and placed his hands gently on the sides of her arms. She froze but he did not move them. "There's only the two of us here so how can you feel out of your depth? Anyway I was hoping you might stay with me rather than in here," he added cheekily, a big grin across his face.

Barbara sighed knowing that she had probably encouraged that expectation. She imagined he was good with women and that they just fell into bed with him. She doubted he would handle rejection well and for the first time since agreeing to come wondered if being so isolated was safe if he could not control his anger. Even so she had no intention of sleeping with him only for them to realise in a week or so what a mistake it had been. "No, I don't think so Sir. Our prime purpose is to focus on your health. Besides I am not physically up to that sort of thing at the moment." She sounded much vaguer than she had intended.

He frowned at her. "It wasn't that type of offer," he said with tender sincerity. "I just...need you near me." He slipped his arms around her and held her gently to him, careful not to hurt her. He wanted more than anything to make love to her but the timing was wrong. They had to heal their physical and emotional wounds first. He had been honest, he just wanted to feel close to her and as her arms came cautiously around his waist he laid his chin on her head grateful that she understood and hopeful that she was beginning to trust him again.


	11. Chapter 11

"My sister has a sense of humour," Tommy said as he served lunch, "she arranged for a pot of chicken soup to be left on the stove."

"I like chicken soup. They serve it to sick people for a reason you know." Barbara was touched by the gesture and baffled why Tommy would mock it. "And let's admit it; we are not exactly the healthiest couple in England at the moment."

Tommy grinned at her as he removed the crusty bread rolls from the oven. She looked quizzically at him. He understood she had probably not meant anything by it but when she had said 'couple' he had actually felt his heart somersault. "Do you have any idea how much I love...chicken soup?" It had been spontaneous and he was going to say 'you' but he did not want to pressure her. He knew she did not believe him. He needed to prove it, not just say it.

"Bad boarding school experience?"

"What?" Tommy was confused.

"Well the way you said it, I assumed you don't like it."

Tommy was searching for a way out of the messy conversation he had created. "No, I like it but we used to get it a lot at home as children and there are several more meals in that pot." Neither was a lie.

Barbara smiled at him bemused, her bowl almost empty. "Good."

After lunch Barbara had a long shower. The water washed away a lot of her tension and concern. They had talked about all sorts of things over lunch and she was enjoying being here. The more time she spent with Tommy not focused on a case the more she began to hope he really was in love with her; she could do this for a very long time. Even if he was wrong about it she doubted they could ever stop being friends. It might be awkward at first but they would get past it and that gave her enough confidence to concede that she wanted him to make love to her, even if it was only once. She needed to know what it would be like to feel his skin against hers and to have him want her. As she dressed in the most loose fitting pants and jumper she had with her she tried to suppress her yearning and convince herself she was being ridiculous. She had been in love with him for years and had been satisfied with what she had; women like her do not have happy ever afters.

When she emerged Tommy had lit the fire. It subtly changed the atmosphere of the room. It seemed to lock out everything outside the windows and make the house the focus. Barbara sat on the sofa to watch the flames. She smiled at him thinking that it was a perfect example of his thoughtfulness and caring that was tempting her to hope. The look he was giving her did nothing to divert her thoughts. It was incredibly soft leather and way too comfortable as she sank into it. She pulled up her legs and stretched out to take the pressure off her wounds. She closed her eyes in her own private fantasy. Within a few minutes she was asleep.

Tommy watched her from the chair on the other side of the fire. He wanted to go and lie with her but it would only wake her. He fetched a rug and spread it over her and returned to his chair to read, or at least pretend to read. He sat watching her sleep trying to understand why it had taken him so long to discover the true nature of his feelings. Had they wasted years or did it need to evolve to this point for a reason? He only hoped that he felt the same when he was off his anti-depressants. He believed he would but could he be certain? He had thought he had been in love before to find it was not what he had thought it would be. Was this any different? It certainly seemed to be and he desperately wanted it to be but he did not trust himself to know. He could see in her eyes she was beginning to give in to her feelings and it would shatter her if he was wrong. That was something he could not do to her and yet he was powerless to stop what was happening between them. No, he could stop it but he did not want to stop it. He was ashamed that he was nothing but a weak fool.

Barbara awoke with a start. She had been dreaming about a herd of sheep that caught fire and plunged terrified off the cliff. It was a disturbing image and she wondered if they were trying to put out the flames and live, or end their pain by dying.

"Are you okay?" Tommy was kneeling beside her and pushed some hair from her eyes.

"Sorry, I had a nightmare."

"About us?"

It was almost certainly a metaphor but there was no point in upsetting him. "No about sheep." She tried to sit up but her stomach and leg were throbbing. "I forgot to take my painkillers."

Tommy disappeared and returned with the tablets and a glass of water. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, thank you for that."

"What do you fancy for dinner?"

"Anything but lamb! But you don't have to cook."

Tommy grinned at her and wondered if she appreciated her own sense of humour. "I do if we want to eat. Besides I like cooking if I'm not just doing it for myself."

Tommy left her to rest and when he called her for dinner she had drifted back to sleep. They talked mainly about the case as they ate; carefully avoiding what was really on their minds. Lynley had prepared something he knew Barbara would like; steak, egg and chips. He would endeavour to introduce her to more adventurous food while they were here.

"So what do you think?"

"Delicious."

"Thanks but no, about the other business. I still think I would rather a few bad days than do this over weeks. Are we up to it?"

Barbara considered it for a moment. "Yes, we are. If you're going to have an adverse reaction it will probably start tomorrow but nothing might happen." She tried to sound nonchalant and reassuring but she knew instinctively it was going to be far from easy.

Tommy nodded as he retrieved his car keys from his pocket and handed them to her. "Listen carefully please. If I become unmanageable or you feel threatened or in danger in any way I want you to take the car and get out, even if I beg you not to leave. I can't hurt you again, I simply can't."

She could tell from his eyes that he was scared. "It'll be fine. No one will get hurt."

"Promise me."

"Okay, I promise but I also promise to stick by you. We'll do this together yeah?" Tommy smiled grimly as they looked at each other.

Barbara was ordered back to the sofa to watch television while Tommy went for a shower. He came back a few minutes later shirtless and struggling to remove his bandages. "One more favour," he said, "will you help me with this please? I only had to wear them today because I was driving. Otherwise I am supposed to just rest and manage the pain."

As she slowly unwound the bandages Barbara saw the bruising and realised how much discomfort he must be in. "When you finish your shower I'll rub in some of that cream they gave me for my neck. It'll help with the bruising."

Mention of her neck reminded Tommy of his behaviour and his buoyant mood left him. "How is it?"

"Much better. Don't keep thinking about it." Barbara scolded, regretting that she had reminded him.

As he showered he wondered what was to come. He had been surprisingly calm today and it worried him. Maybe the doctor was right and he just needed time to adjust to the medication. Conversely the chance that he might lose control like that again frightened him. Hardwick had told them horror stories about suddenly stopping and at the very least he expected headaches and nausea and anxiety. He hoped he would be lucky and the symptoms might be mild but given he had had adverse reactions taking them then chances of reactions now were far higher. He did not really mind except that he would expose Barbara to it. He wanted to send her away but he knew he would never do it; he was too selfish and needed her here. She had seen the worst of him he hoped but no doubt the next few days would be testing for her. If, in a few weeks, she still loved him he would know she would love him forever. That gave him hope but also overwhelmed him. He did not deserve to have someone like her in his life.

The lights of Hastings were flickering in the distance and Havers stood at the bedroom window watching them. She could see his reflection as he came into the room. He had clearly not expected her to be there and the towel that was casually over his shoulder was hastily folded around his waist before he spoke. "Barbara! I thought you were in the lounge."

"I came in to find the cream," she said turning around and holding up the tube. She made no reference to what she had seen although it had secretly thrilled her.

He sat on the bed as she applied the cream, her strokes light and circular. The touch of her hand made him shiver and raised goose bumps. As she moved from his back to his front she sat too, their faces close. Each stroke was made slowly and carefully. It was nearly driving him mad. He had promised her everything would be platonic until he was better but if she continued to touch him like this he would have to kiss her. He closed his eyes trying to limit temptation. He was on a razor's edge between pleasure and agony.

If anything Barbara was suffering more. She knew her hands were not behaving strictly therapeutically. She was exploring the texture of his skin and his different reactions to her caresses. The acuteness of her desire and her sudden loss of restraint shocked her yet did not really surprise her. "It's inevitable isn't it?" she asked.

"What is?" His voice was husky and strained with the effort required to not react. He should have continued to struggle with the bandages without asking for help.

"That we become lovers."

Tommy felt his stomach drop away and almost groaned at the words. "Oh Barbara, I hope so! You have no idea how much I want that right now."

"Hmm, I think I do." This time she kissed him, so lightly at first that it felt like kissing silk but as their arms came around each other and the kiss deepened her whole body came alive.

Tommy reluctantly pulled away. "We have to stop here," he implored resting his forehead on hers. He was panting and his ribs dug into him with every breath. "Neither of us is up to this right now. Not to do justice to it."

"I'm sorry." Barbara felt clumsy and flustered and tried to pull away. She had never initiated anything like that before. Was it just lust? A reaction to seeing him naked? If she was this mortified just kissing him she could never do anything more.

Tommy could feel her disappointment and hugged her to him. "Don't be sorry, I'm not. You have just given me the perfect incentive to get my act together." She tried to stand but Lynley had hold of her. "No, stay with me. Just let me hold you like we did the other night. My love for you transcends the physical Barbara but when the time is right I'm going to make love to you like no ever has before and you'll understand. We won't regret waiting, I promise."

She wanted to believe him and with a sigh she nestled into his chest trying not to move her hands in any way that might seem suggestive. After a while they moved further on to the bed and lay down still cuddling. It was strangely companionable and her embarrassment receded. Sleep came quickly.


	12. Chapter 12

It was just after three when Barbara woke to find herself alone. She waited a few minutes thinking he might be in the bathroom but when he did not reappear she went searching for him. Lynley had dressed in jeans and a shirt and was sitting by the fire when she found him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep so I came out here."

She sat beside him and watched the flames dancing in the hearth letting him know she was there if he wanted to talk. Tommy put his arm around her shoulder and they sat silently for over an hour before he spoke. "I haven't been able to sleep properly since I came back to work. I either have nightmares or I wake up and can't get back to sleep. The first few months I would just drink more and pass out but after I went back to work I couldn't do that so I would just sit up most of the night staring into space."

"You should have told me."

Tommy shrugged then stood and walked to the window and watched the lights. He was restless and irritable. "Thanks for sitting up with me Barbara but would you mind if I spent some time alone?"

"Of course not but if you want me you know where I am eh?" She was hesitant to leave him alone but there were plenty of times she needed to be by herself to think.

He paced around and considered pouring a drink. He got out a glass and found the whiskey. He opened the bottle and sniffed it. It was well aged and mellow. He was about to pour it when he thought about all those nights he had spent drinking alone. It had solved nothing then and would solve nothing now. If he started drinking now it would be hard to pull up and that would only complicate everything. He could not trust himself so did up the bottle and returned it to the shelf. He sat down and closed his eyes trying to stay calm and in control. He was not overly angry but he was beginning to feel a little off kilter. Random thoughts darted across his mind and disappeared. He tried to catch them to analyse them but every time he tried they changed and moved. It was almost like having a nightmare but he was awake and could not escape. They crowded in on him and he just wanted them to end.

The light was breaking over Hastings and the morning sky was alive with fresh lines of blue and gold. Lynley saw no real beauty in it but a walk in the sea air could not hurt. He left Barbara a note beside her pillow and kissed her so lightly she did not stir. The sunrise was almost complete but the air still held its night chill. He pulled up the collar of his coat and strode purposefully along the cliff path focussing on all the small things around him and trying to ignore the rising anxiety that was gripping his mind. He walked for an hour then turned and came back up the path to the house. His ribs hurt and his breathing was laboured. Walking had probably not been a good idea physically but it had helped him. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing was shallow. He needed to get into better shape when all this was over.

By the time he got back he had long since removed his coat but he was still sweating despite the cool breeze that swept past the house. Barbara was up and dressed and he could tell she had been worried. "Sorry, I just kept walking," he told her, "it seemed to help."

Tommy showered and changed but he was still sweating and his heart and breathing had not changed. He tried hard to conceal it but Barbara could see it in his eyes. "It's okay. You don't have to bluff it out. We expected this might happen. We just run with it."

He tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. Her offer of food or coffee made him feel ill but he declined politely. "I think I might just lie down for a while."

Barbara heard the shower running again. She could see he was beginning to suffer and hoped he might get some sleep. When she went in to check on him half an hour later he was not in the room. She found him in the second bedroom curled up in the bed in a foetal position with all the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Sweat was running from him but he was shivering and his teeth were chattering. He had his hands clenched and the fists pressed hard against his temples. She turned the air conditioning up as high as it would go and fetched another blanket from the robe. He did not feel hotter or colder to the touch than normal so she sponged his face with a warm face cloth and sat with him wondering what else she could do. It was agonising to watch him suffer.

Tommy did not really respond to anything she said. He seemed locked in a prison in his own mind and she would just have to wait until he came back to her. Within half an hour he became hot and tossed off the blankets and the sweat poured from him as he thrashed about on the bed. She managed to get him to drink some water and he had acknowledged her with a weak 'thanks'. This time she mopped his sweaty face and neck with a cool cloth. He seemed to like the feel of it on his skin so she wet another one and placed it over his forehead and eyes which helped calm him.

She had no idea how long the cycles of hot and cold lasted but well after the sun had set she realised that for the last hour he had been sleeping peacefully. She wanted to find a way to change the bed linen so that he was not lying in damp pool of his own sweat but with her injuries he had been too heavy to move. She was grateful to Judith for organising the soup because she had been able to grab a quick bowl for her lunch and her dinner. She had even managed to get him to swallow a few mouthfuls mid-afternoon. Now all she could do was to sit guard over him waiting.

She opened her eyes and cursed. She had fallen asleep and he had disappeared. The clock told her it was almost dawn. She tore from the room and out to the lounge and found him sitting by the fire. He had not seen her and was bent over with his head in his hands. She approached slowly so that she did not startle him and as she drew closer she could hear him crying. She paused and observed him for a while. Her natural instinct was to go to him and hold him but something told her this was something he needed to do alone. There was an odd dichotomy with Tommy. He was quite an emotional man and yet it was rare for him to open up emotionally to others. It had happened a few times but he seemed to hold everything in, stiff upper lip and all that conservative upper class nonsense.

He sensed her and lifted his head. "How long have you been standing there watching?" It was not an accusation and there was no bitterness in his voice.

"A minute or so. I thought you needed space."

"Sit with me."

Barbara went over and put her hand on his shoulder then sat next to him. He had stopped crying but his eyes were bloodshot and raw. He had been sitting here longer than she had thought. She was not sure what to say so waited. If he wanted to talk he would. "Thank you for looking after me. I could feel you sponging me."

"My pleasure." She frowned at herself. _Is that the best you can manage to say?_

"I feel a bit better. My heart has stopped pounding and my headache is better but I've got all these weird sensations in my head. It's like I've got a lot of little men in there all whizzing around on zip lines yelling 'yee haa!' or like having a shooting star go across your brain."

Barbara could not help but smile. "I know it's not funny but that description is. It'll be all right, we'll get you through it."

"I hope I'm not going mad. I went to see the psychiatrist because I thought I was going to go mad. When I couldn't sleep I'd think about what happened or the numerous other disasters in my life but most of the time it was just random disconnected thoughts about Helen, the baby, you, my mother and often about nothing I even recognised as belonging to my life. They made no sense but I couldn't shake them. Then I started to get them at work too. They wouldn't leave me alone and I couldn't concentrate, I started to lose the ability to function. I just wanted to run Barbara but I didn't know what I was running from; I just wanted some peace. That's why I went to the doctor, to try to get some peace.

"I wish you had told me."

'Why? So you could worry that I might crack up at some point and let you down? So that you would know how weak I am?"

Barbara turned to face him. "You are not weak. Did you think I was weak when I broke down that time in Suffolk?"

"No, of course not!"

"Then why would you expect me to think you were?"

"It's not the same. You were shot, I wasn't. I watched you being shot and Helen being shot and I couldn't do anything except feel sorry for myself. I tried hard not to drag you or anyone else into it and then made a complete hash of everything again. Helen used to tell me the way I reacted to trauma was like a tortured adolescent and she was right. I am over forty years old and all I do is run and hide from everything that goes wrong. I can't even face myself." He stood and walked to the window and looked across at the distant lights. Tommy ran his hand through his hair in exasperation. His mind was a jumble of contradictory thoughts. He could not explain to Barbara something that he could not understand himself.

Barbara came and stood beside him. "Every night after I was shot I used to wake up in a cold sweat. Sometimes I would wake just in time to hear myself screaming. I used to have terrible nightmares and flashbacks. Sometimes the gun would not go off; other times it was you or my mother or my brother who shot me. Or worse still it was you that was shot and me that was powerless to stop it. Like you I had no peace. I should never have gone back then to work but I was driving myself crazy and I wanted to be with you. I needed your stability. When Garrett wanted to shoot me though I didn't really care. At that point it would have ended the anguish and given me the silence I craved. But I got angry; I wanted to punish him for all of the things that had happened. When I was hitting him it wasn't because of the way he had made me feel but because the pain and terror of being shot; because of Terry's death and how that made me feel; because of how I treated my parents; what I had become as a person. So don't tell me I don't understand anger or pain because I do. When you dragged me away and everything just flooded out it made me feel better, much, much better. If you hadn't been there then I would have collected myself and covered it over again and I'd probably still be suffering but I knew you'd understand. It was safe for me to just surrender to it and let it go. You were there to protect me and I didn't care what anyone thought. I wish you had come to me when you were suffering so that I could've sheltered you."

Tommy sank to the floor in despair. "I'm so sorry Barbara. I never asked; I never let you talk about it all. I just assumed you were stronger than me."

Barbara sat down beside him, her hand on his face forcing him to look at her. "No, I was strong _because_ of you."

His arms came around her and held her so tightly that it hurt. She held his head and let him cry unaware that she was crying just as hard.

* * *

**Author's note:** Thanks for your patience. This story got longer than I thought. Only one more chapter I think.


	13. Chapter 13

Tommy had been staring at the bench for almost two hours. The black granite had white and grey specks that on close inspection created a world of wonder and mystery. He had found a map of Asia and the face of his long dead grandfather. Near the sink he had located the Houses of Parliament and by the stove he had spotted an elephant whose trunk had been truncated. He had laughed far too raucously at his own joke.

This was a very trying and tedious phase. After their cathartic talk Tommy had slept most of the day. He insisted they stay in the spare room so Barbara had changed the linen then washed the first set in case they were needed again. That night he had tried to watch television with her but he found it hard to focus and talked loudly over it. It would have been annoying if she had been interested in the programme but fortunately the documentary on Swiss watchmakers that he had chosen was less interesting than his lecture on the evils of genetically modified crops. He had no idea he was being a bore and she wondered if he even knew what he was saying. She could always tell him of course, he had three points to make and had made them over and over and over again.

His behaviour for the next two days had been much the same; bursts of energy, lethargy and incessant rambling. Conversations sounded normal but they were far from it. He was not irrational but he was certainly behaving eccentrically. He could not settle to do anything and his mind kept wandering. When he had a shower Barbara had to send him back in to wash the soap from his hair. He had insisted on vacuuming the house and did half of it at a frenzied pace then stopped to watch two butterflies fighting outside the window. He stood by the window for an hour, long after the insects had lost interest in watching him. She felt drained by both his energetic bursts of activity and his long periods of meandering in some parallel universe where she was not invited.

To make it worse her stitches were itchy. Each of her sixty odd sutures prickled and burned on their own schedules and nothing would calm them. She tried ignoring them, hopping up and down, then she attempted to softy rub them through the plastic of the waterproof dressing in a faux scratch. That had been a mistake and started them all itching together. In the end she had run a cold bath and sat in it freezing but without the maddening itch. She had told Tommy she thought she had seen the Taj Mahal on the bench and knew he would still be looking for it when she finished.

He burst in to the bathroom excitedly. "I found it Barbara but it was not where you said. Oh my!" He turned and raced from the room. She should have been embarrassed but all Barbara could do was laugh. Tommy was in his other world again when she dressed and came into the lounge. She doubted he would even remember the incident.

After five days the soup was finally gone and she needed to cook them a meal. There were some frozen meals in the freezer and with the judicious application of heat she managed to present what she thought was a reasonable dinner. Tommy's assessment was blunt. "I need to teach you to cook." She tried hard not to be disappointed and to see the funny side but she was tired and running out of patience.

Tommy lit the fire and sat staring at the flames. Although she dreaded what riveting documentaries might be airing she suggested they watch television. "Can we just sit quietly tonight?" Lynley asked, "I am very tired."

"That's fine."

She went to sit in the chair but he beckoned to the spot next to him. When she was comfortable Tommy put his arm around her shoulder. "I know I'm behaving weirdly. I can feel it but I can't stop it."

"It's fine. Are you feeling any better?"

He leant his head on her shoulder. "Mmmm, a bit. The anxiety has largely gone and the headaches and my little men on zip lines, but I feel disconnected. Being close to you helps." Tommy turned his head and started to kiss her neck.

"Tommy!"

He stopped and sat up straight but did not remove his hand from her shoulder. "Sorry. I got carried away."

"No, I'm sorry. I liked it; it's just that we agreed."

"Being affectionate is not a precursor to anything else. I was just trying to let you know that I appreciate what you're doing for me and that I love you, more than you will ever understand."

It was hard to feel annoyed with someone so earnest. The last few days had exhausted her physically, mentally and emotionally but she only had to look into his eyes now to find the strength to persist. "I understand more than you think Tommy."

"And?"

"And what?"

"It doesn't matter." Tommy knew she loved him, otherwise she would not be here with him, but he wanted to hear her say it. He had told her a hundred times but she had never said it once.

She understood what he wanted and wondered why she vacillated. She loved him more than she had ever imagined was possible despite, or perhaps because of, everything they had been through together here and over the last decade. Even so, not telling him she loved him was her one last shield against being irreparably hurt. She just could not go that one final step, not yet. "I'm sorry Tommy."

The next day when Tommy woke Barbara was still snuggled up to him like she had every night. She had run herself ragged looking after him and as he watched her sleeping peacefully he knew it would be hard to ever explain how much it meant to him. He slipped quietly out of bed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. The bacon sizzled in the pan as he sautéed some mushrooms. The tomatoes were baking in the oven and all he needed to do was the eggs. He preferred poached to fried eggs but had never thought to ask what Barbara would choose. Poached today and take it from there. He woke her by kissing her softly on her forehead then arranged the pillows so she could sit up and eat. He balanced his tray carefully and they ate in contented silence.

"Okay, point taken," she said as she finished, "when do your lessons start?"

Tommy grinned at her cheekily. "I wasn't making a point, I was making breakfast. I'm sorry I insulted your cooking."

"No offense taken; I know my limitations," Barbara said smiling, "you seem better this morning."

"I am. I feel good actually. I thought we might take a picnic down to the beach today."

"That's a nice thought but it's pretty cold out there." Tommy looked so disappointed that she added quickly, "do you have a warm enough coat?" He nodded and beamed at her like an excited labrador told it is going for a walk.

Lynley drove them to the beach. They were alone beneath the cliffs. He enclosed her hand in his as they trekked along the line where the water was slowly creeping up the shore. The waves were high and broke with a roar as they crashed into the shingle. The wind was bracing and brought in the spray to float over them, thick enough that they could taste the salt. It was too noisy to talk but they did not need words as they watched the waves and ate their sandwiches in the lee of a rock.

The ocean was cleansing and pure and exciting. Tommy felt free for the first time in years; free of guilt, free of pain, free of the burden of pretending to be someone that he could never be. He was finally able to forgive himself. He was filled with an enthusiasm about the future and squeezed Barbara's hand tighter. He understood her reluctance to surrender herself completely to love, to their love, to him; but he knew it was time. Any doubts he had had before were misplaced. He had come through his ordeal understanding and loving her more than he had before. Last week it had been a more selfish, needy love but not now; now he was able to give every part of him to her.

Barbara was fascinated by the different hues. The tops of the waves were a soft translucent green that merged into a grey and even white at the very crest, while the base of the wave was a solid dark forest green. She watched the way the ocean rose and fell and how the energy moved rhythmically and relentlessly towards the shore and then in its last act rose into the waves that shattered themselves onto the beach. Some waves screamed in like Viking warriors while others seemed to be relieved that their journey was finally over. She remembered her nightmare about the sheep and involuntarily checked the cliffs. Was she willing to take the plunge to save herself or did she want it to end? A few days ago the answer was less clear but now she had no hesitation.

It was still cold when they returned to the house. Tommy lit the fire and they both showered to get warm then they cooked dinner together laughing as he tried to explain some kitchen fundamentals. After the meal they sat on the sofa. Tommy had his arms around her and she was nestled back into his chest and they chatted about nothing for hours.

Tommy took his cue from the fire and when it was time to add another log he stood and extended his hand out to Barbara. She expected them to go back to the second bedroom they had been sharing but he led her into the main room with its view. She looked puzzled so he said softly, "this is the room where I knew I would make love to you. I didn't want it sullied by memories of the last few days."

She smiled as she looked at him, her handsome, wonderfully sentimental friend. He kissed her in a way that made her melt. It was graceful and tender but full of desire and promise. She had wanted him to want her and she knew he did but this was far beyond physical. She understood what he had meant and now she too needed to show him how much she loved him. She was ready to risk everything and love him with all her soul. "I love you Tommy."

Her words were magical. It was the very last piece in his recovery. He felt whole and alive. "Then marry me."

Her kiss was his answer but he smiled at her reply. "It's inevitable isn't it?"

That night, in each other, they finally found the love and peace both of them had craved for so long.

* * *

**Author's note: **I have had some interesting reactions to this story, mainly on PM. Some claim it is frighteningly realistic but others have said Barbara's forgiveness is unrealistic. I have no issue with anti-depreesants that are appropriately prescribed. For the record the subplot regarding the anti-depressants and withdrawal was based on two cases with which I was closely connected and the behaviours and reactions of both Tommy and Barbara reflect real events. There are no easy answers for mental health issues and some actions can never be excused or forgiven but understanding, love and forgiveness of yourself and others are fundamental to healing. I guess that was the point I was trying to make.


End file.
